


A Kind of Blue

by bitchtits



Category: Deltarune (Video Game), Undertale (Video Game)
Genre: Age Difference, Alcoholism, Depression, Furry, M/M, Reader-Insert, Size Difference, male reader - Freeform
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-12-11
Updated: 2021-02-14
Packaged: 2021-03-10 16:42:16
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 24,078
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/28010343
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bitchtits/pseuds/bitchtits
Summary: A story about escapism, responsibility, and cute goat men. Story set before the events of Undertale.
Relationships: Asgore Dreemurr/Reader
Comments: 6
Kudos: 41





	1. In The Court of the Crimson King

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [All Blues](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-488UORrfJ0&ab_channel=MilesDavisVEVO/)

I couldn’t remember the exact incident that convinced me to drive out to Mount Ebott that day, but I remember distinctly why I was running away. An encroaching fear of expectation had wrapped itself around my head, a growing sense of responsibility to an invisible collective that grew more and more each day. A year late but finally enrolled in college, the responsibility I had been able to avoid throughout my teenage years had begun looming around the corners of my life, stalking my peripherals in a creepy vignette. I found myself acting like a stereotype, my thoughts and behavior slipping out of my control as I tried to play nice to appease the mental monsters. It felt like I was losing myself to the generalized other, that I didn’t know how to stay intact with myself anymore. There are so many little things to lose your sanity to, so many small daily events that pile up without a proper outlet. And at the time, I didn’t have one. Living in a new college town with no friends and an unapproachable roommate kept my free time silent and frustrated. Of course I still had family somewhat close by, but just far away enough to only justify a visit on the weekends, and so the weekdays tore me apart. Each meaningless task, each social gesture began to feel eerily traditional and alien.

And it was the faces. Day in, day out, walking along the campus sidewalk and exchanging glances with the people on the street. They usually had no meaning behind their expressions, yet every set of eyes felt so malicious. Sometimes I would find myself locking eyes with someone, and all of a sudden I would feel their same expression living on my own face. It was just an accident that no one bothered to explain or apologize for, but it seemed like everyone experienced this weird subliminal hostility. I knew it was nothing, that it was all in my head, but to recognize this was never enough. It was as if no one could ever venture outside of their immediate emotions, constantly chained to the person they have consistently represented themselves to be by the threat of expectation. It was exhausting, as if I had now built up this anxious character stereotype that I’d wake up every morning to fill. I could hear the people’s dictator in the back of my head, constantly calling troops to stand in the lines they’ve always stood in, never to break formation. Like nothing would ever change, nothing would ever happen.

Like a kid or a king, I was trying to run away from my own rampant mobocracy. Every time I’d go for a getaway drive to forget my problems, I’d find myself daring further out into deserted country roads, and at this stage of action no road could hide me the way I wanted it to. This time the remote parking lot at the foot of Mount Ebott wasn’t enough either, I wanted to be truly alone for once.

I grabbed my bag out of the car and hiked up to the “no trespassing” gate, ducking through. It was then I heard the rustle of the ballet clothes in my bag, a gift I had bought this morning and forgotten about by the time class let out. A gift for my niece, for her birthday party tomorrow night. I felt something inside me wince. Once again, all my ties to society were calling me back at the worst possible moment, another errand of eyes left to weigh on me.

I put it out of my mind and grabbed the headphones out of my bag. I just needed an hour to myself. When the mountain got cold and my feet started to hurt, then I could think about my stupid family errands. For now I needed to be alone, somewhere where no one would find me.

I don’t know what made me think I was capable of hiking a mountain, but eventually I came to a point where I had to stop. I found a good enough sitting rock and took a break. By then it was starting to get dark, the smell of the trees turning slightly sinister, and the sight of the blueish trails in the sunset begging every tiny thought in my head to find a satisfactory answer to my problems. Something to explain all the petty frustration. Something to make it all make sense.

And then I noticed it. A dip in the ground no more than two feet wide with a mysterious weight attached to it, damp and worn over the length of its outdoor lifespan, and with nothing better to do, I investigated. I opted to poke the sullen ground with my foot, as if testing the limits of a frozen lake. Defenseless, and like a complete idiot, I walked out onto the ice, thinking nothing could possibly happen because nothing ever has before, right?

And then the ice broke. As if it was a cave-in, the whole area of the ground beneath my feet gave in, tree roots disintegrating, chunks of dirt avalanching, and me falling in and tumbling into the earth below me. At first, I assumed the worst: a sinkhole. I would hit the ground in a moment, and no one would ever find me, trapped at the bottom of private land in the middle of nowhere. After running away from human-kind, I would be left screaming for help like the boy who cried wolf only to die alone in a ditch. How ironic, right? No, I kept rolling through the darkness, failing to grab onto anything to catch my weight, spinning through the twisting cavities of the planet below me. It lasted an unnatural length of time before I finally slammed into a wall of loose dirt, bursting out into a large and hollow cave.

But this wasn’t just a cave. In front of me stood a giant palace, with the twinkling lights of a city hiding behind its ominous silhouette. A waterfall of faint light poured out of a crack in the opposite cave wall at the edge of town, bathing the streets and buildings in the softest, dimmest sheen. Below me, hiding in the shadow of the castle, was a dark and glooming lake. My heart sank. I realized I was headed for a fatal belly flop, likely the most comically tragic in human history, when I was surprised by a new wall to my right. Out of the darkness, a grey platform came rushing up to meet me, my whole body slamming into it with a force I never imagined possible. I probably let out some kind of cry, but I couldn’t hear it behind the ringing in my ears and the stabs of pain in every corner of my body.

I felt myself panic as the realization set in. My leg was definitely broken. I’ve never even broken a bone before, I thought. I was trying my best to gauge whether I was even alive or not, breathing heavily and quickly while my mind raced back and forth. I tried to peer my head in any direction, just to get an idea of my surroundings, but it was just so dark, my eyes unadjusted to the light in this dark underground. For a moment I just laid there, groaning in pain, twisting and writhing on hard, cold stone when I heard a noise nearby. A tall, wide shadow stood in what appeared to be some kind of large doorway to my right, muttering something and moving in slowly. The fear and pain merged into visible noise, closing in on my vision as my head fell back down onto the cold floor. Deep in the belly of the underground, at the whims of whatever lived inside it, I completely blacked out.

****

When I woke up, I was in a large bed in an even larger, empty room. Lit only by one candle by the door, the room was a dim, cold blue. There was minimal furnishing for such a large space, and everything was just so slightly oversized. When my full consciousness finally returned with memories of the fall, I nearly gasped and hurried to lift up the covers. Despite the pain, I was neatly bandaged up, miraculously with only one cast around my right leg. How the hell did I manage that?

I noticed my belongings on the distant nightstand at the edge of the bed, my phone and headphones crushed from the fall. I recalled my train of thought back on the surface, and shame washed over me as I was reminded of the irony of my situation. Of course, I fell into a hole after running away from my problems. While this was as fantastical as a situation could get, it felt like a sitcom of sorts, the irony of my pathetic search for an emotional, pseudo-philosophical release led me to what was most likely my own doom. And of course at the end of it all someone helped me back up.

I looked around the room carefully with a sinking feeling. I still don’t know who that someone is. Was it that figure I saw? Who else could it have been?

I tried getting up and was met with strong pain. I paused for a moment, curling the sheets in my hands before I kept going. I wasn’t going to let a broken leg stop me from getting some answers for once, and I pulled myself slowly over the edge of the bed. That’s when I noticed a pair of crutches leaning next to the desk holding my broken things. Did… someone leave those there for me? With a deep breath, I got up and gradually hobbled my way to the desk, grabbing the crutches for support. I moved to the door and paused for a moment before hesitantly turning the knob.

The hallway outside was much larger, much emptier, and much darker. The walls were lined on the left side with magnificent glass windows showcasing nothing but the dark cave outside, and on the right with equally massive paintings and plant fixtures. The hall extended a far distance back, and halfway down there was a fork on the right wall. I pressed on, limping through the cold space as quietly as possible, steadying myself against the right wall until I reached the fork.

It was another long hallway, lit on the left side by a crack in a large door. The light made me anxious, someone was definitely in there, and while they most likely saved me, I obviously couldn’t be certain of anything. I made my way to the door anyway, hesitating for a good moment with my back against the wall. I took a slow breath before stifling my lungs, and quietly peered through the crack.

It looked like a library, lavishly regal with reds and dark woods to match the grand architecture of the hallways. I couldn’t see much, so I tilted the door further ever so slightly and turned my head in. I followed my gaze past bookshelves, to the edge of a couch, and then the smell of alcohol rushed my senses. I continued pushing my head in slowly, cracking open the door.

And then I saw him.

I remember thinking that there had to be cameras. My life was a sitcom show, or maybe even a bad porno by the way things were looking. Turned away from me was a giant man with horns in a Hawaiian shirt, his broad stature easily visible from behind the couch he was resting on. I felt my face heat up. Listen, I knew my type, this just had to be some kind of bad joke. I retreated back from the door to breathe a bit. If I hadn’t been trying so hard to steady myself, I would’ve buried my face in my hands.

Alright, what the fuck do I do? I stared blankly at the floor as my brain throttled itself with questions. Should I go in? Can I trust this guy? I don’t even know if he speaks English, should I just go back to my room? I waited a good while in that hallway, failing to come up with any good idea or logical way forward from the bullshit I’d found myself in.

Just rip the fuckin’ band-aid, I thought. I squinted my eyes, slowly opening the door as I stepped in. The fully symmetrical room came into view, filled with bookcases and lounging furniture and royal red carpets. I stood there in silence, my heart beating out of my chest, and waited a moment before I finally spoke.

“Hey, uh—"

The giant turned around quickly, “Ah— you should— you should get back to your room!” he exclaimed immediately, almost roaring before consciously dialing his voice back.

I found myself stammering uncontrollably, “I-I just, uh—"

“No, you— you should sit down,” he came around the couch, quickly compromising his panicked tone, “Please, please, you should sit down.”

“O-okay—” He guided me to a seat opposite from him, the two of us coughing out awkward noises to fill the silence of my broken leg lagging behind its appropriate pace.

By the time I sat down, it was clear to me that he was somewhat drunk. His breath was a dead giveaway, and he moved a little sloppily around the table between the two couches, asking my name as he sat back down. I told him.

“Very good, that’s a nice name,” he attempted to be pleasant and civil, his deep voice still rumbling from the initial shock, “I, um— my name is Asgore, Asgore Dreemurr. I hope you are feeling, um, alright.”

I sputtered into the conversation, “Yeah, yes, I— thank you, for bandaging up my, uh...” I stared uncomfortably at my cocoon of a leg, my words trailing off.

“That’s— yes, that’s quite alright,” Asgore laid back into his seat, trying to gain a proper composure. I could see now that it wasn’t just horns, he had the features of a giant goat man, and yes… he was pretty cute. “That was quite the fall, I’m glad to see you are in one piece.”

“Yeah, me too.” I had no idea what to say. I definitely wasn’t much of a flirt, and the fact that I had even considered being one showed how out of line my priorities were.

“I would offer you something to drink, but I…” Asgore looked down at the opened bottles of alcohol in front of him, “Oh, I uh, I usually don’t partake in this sort of thing, I just—”

“No, it’s fine— I don’t care.” I interrupted too quickly, trying not to make him feel embarrassed for drinking alone. God knows I’d needed that a couple nights back in my dorm.

“I, uh,” Asgore took a deep breath, there was a moment of silence, “I am glad we could properly introduce ourselves, and I am glad to see you are well enough to walk… I-I know this is a lot for, um, both of us, but this is probably a bad time… and you should get some rest—”

“…right,” I compromised quickly, hesitant at Asgore’s erratic behavior. I had too many questions, but a mix of vague fear as well as the usual attempts to be as pleasant as possible did a lot more than compromise with Asgore’s stammering.

“Right,” he echoed, standing up, “Let me guide you to your room.”

My heart dropped as he came over and put his arm around me. I felt myself heat up, and I avoided eye contact as we moved to the door. We were painfully slow, my leg acting as a punchline to a shitty joke, and when we got into the hallway he spoke up.

“Here,” Asgore, to my absolute bewilderment, lifted me swiftly into his arms, “It… will be much easier this way.” His voice broke off awkwardly as he began carrying me bridal style through the hallway, holding both crutches in one of his massive hands. I was in full panic, the kind of shock akin to falling onto concrete (I would know), and I did my best to fight any indulgent thought that entered my head. We both kept uncomfortably quiet the whole way, his weighty breath exhaling in his attempt to carry me, lingering with the scent of alcohol. Something about it sent me into a daze as his giant muffled steps echoed quietly into the upper air of the magnificent hallways.

Once we got back to the room, he laid me gently on the massive bed, moving the covers around my leg carefully. Somehow I was genuinely exhausted, and after I was properly settled in, Asgore moved back to the door.

“Okay then,” he looked back at me, a confusing mix of emotions reflected on his face, “Goodnight.”

“Goodnight.” I said back, and he blew out the candle before closing the door.


	2. The View From This Tower

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [The Missing Piece](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=mYPwxjYUtic&ab_channel=PatricioZu%C3%B1iga)

When I finally came to, it felt like I had been asleep for weeks. I shifted groggily in the bedsheets, sitting up and waiting uncomfortably as my numb body vibrated awake. My breath was choked and dry in the back of my throat; I needed water.

I slowly shuffled out of bed, somehow even slower than I did last night. My one bare foot pressed cold to the floor, and as I stood alone in the room, dressed in foreign pajamas, I felt isolated and lost in the strangely scaled bedroom. Somehow the room was brighter, I realized as I noticed a window. Where could light be coming from… I was underground right? My legs moved sickly to the crutches by the door in search of an answer.

The hallways were brighter as well, the giant looming windows from last night now illuminated. And finally some context, as the massive complex of windows perfectly framed a large waterfall, highlighted by a small shaft of light shining from just above its highest point. The illuminating glow sent rays of gold down to the town below, guiding me to the edge of the window. It was magnificent and unsettling, the twinkling light of the city complementing the little amount of natural light available for a hazy view of daily life in the underground. Civilians walked around like ants, doing their normal day-to-day routines while I stood alone, cold, and dazed in the royal hallways above their city.

As mesmerizing as this perspective was, the mental capacity to process the view was not completely available to me. All I could think about was water. I began limping my way through the halls once more, headed to the one destination I could place hope in.

Asgore’s library was empty. The bottles were cleaned up from last night, restoring the room to its esteemed scholarly atmosphere. I felt a pang of disappointment for a moment but pressed on through the hallway.

Another fork. It seemed the hallways made an “H” formation, with Asgore’s library in the center. Naturally, the parallel hallways were just mirrored replicas of each other, but the massive windows in the right hallway only gave view to the barren cave wall, sloped downward to the land far below this apparently high castle. I could go left or right, doors placed menacingly at either ends of the hall. I chose right.

I opened the door cautiously to find an even larger bedroom. Like, really large. A giant bed sat humbly in the center of the room, walls decorated with regal wood furniture and floors ornately patterned to match. The décor brought about a royal presence to the room, yet something about it felt distinctly cozy as well, almost like a cottage home. Knick knacks that lined the walls suggested an antique collection of ordered history, perfect for a giant, but obviously a bit spacious for me. This must be Asgore’s room, I thought.

And then I noticed the bathroom door open. I locked eyes with the sink like a long lost lover and sprinted clumsily to meet it. The counter was scaled just that odd bit taller, making me feel like I was a kid again, just barely at a reasonable height to meet the mirror. I clutched desperately at the sink, inhaling water like an animal for as long as I could before stopping to breathe. I kept going back for more, only when I couldn’t possibly drink any longer did I look up at myself in the mirror.

I was disheveled and breathing heavily, water dripping hungrily from my face. I grabbed a hand towel and padded my face before realizing whose towel I had just used. I glanced back at the mirror to gain some composure, filled with a mixed feeling of shameful domestic attraction and a sharp guilt that I might’ve overstepped my boundaries into Asgore’s personal space. I put the towel back neatly, hoping he wouldn’t notice, and quickly left.

Well that might’ve been a little invasive, I thought, shutting his bedroom door quietly as I stepped back into the hallway. At least I felt a lot better now, and so I continued to explore the other end of the hallway. This door opened up into a large kitchen area, complete with a homey wooden dining area. Assuming my spatial reasoning was correct, the door at the left end of the room connected back to the other end of the “H” hallway in a kind of loop. Neat.

My stomach intuitively guided my attention to the pastries sitting out on the kitchen island. I quickly hobbled over, almost hesitating out of fear of being rude and eating all of Asgore’s food, but I gave in and took a bite of a fresh muffin. The taste was strange, like… pumpkin?

My stomach didn’t care, and I completely devoured the thing. As my cravings were finally satiated, the only rational thought left in my body kicked in to remind me of my predicament. My emotional walkabout had left me injured and lost. It felt like I was recovering from a hangover, twisted in a drunk shame of the things I unfortunately remembered. In my head I could see my family and friends who might be worried about me, how they wouldn’t possibly have known where I went, how they would likely have no clue where to find me.

And then a pang in my heart as I remembered my niece’s birthday present. Her birthday party was tonight, and I was going to miss it. I felt like such a fuck up. Her gift was probably crushed from the fall like the rest of my belongings, stuck with me down here in some castle with no exit.

Wait, was there really no exit? I double-taked in every possible direction, limping back through the main hallway and around the fork. Across from Asgore’s library entrance was one final set of double doors I had missed, and I hurried over to them.

Locked. A timid sense of oppression fell on my shoulders. This was definitely the exit, and Asgore probably locked me in so I couldn’t leave.

This is a bit weird, I thought while my nervousness grew. I moved slowly back to the large window looking over the town, lost in suspicion but trying to keep calm. Maybe he had his reasons, right? Beneath me I could see the civilians once again, now registering the variations of sizes among them. Everyone looked completely different, made up of different shapes and colors. I had no idea what kind of population I was just dropped into… maybe they were dangerous, and Asgore was just trying to protect me. I didn’t want to think about it too hard, my admittedly surface-level crush willing to give Asgore the benefit of the doubt.

And then, while standing at the window, I heard the lock come undone. I turned quickly to find the massive Asgore shuffling through the door. Standing awkwardly, I didn’t know what to do but wait for him to notice me, and when he did, he visibly switched into his proper mode.

“Ah, you caught me by surprise!” he exclaimed and rapidly recovered, “How has your morning been here in my castle?”

I was taken aback by Asgore’s sharp hospitality, sudden and unwarranted. “I’ve been okay,” I started, “I’ve just been exploring a bit, hope you don’t mind.”

“Oh, that’s quite alright!” he beamed a smile, “I’m sure you are starving! How about we get you a proper meal?”

“That…” I _was_ starving, despite my light snack. “That sounds good to me.”

“Then come with me!” Asgore moved swiftly to my side to help guide me down the hallway, “I do hope your injuries are feeling a little better.”

“Uh… a little bit,” I gulped as I felt myself losing control of the situation, far underground and being swept into a giant’s kitchen. I wanted to trust Asgore for whatever reason, but his sober hand at my back was somehow more terrifying than his drunk demeanor from last night.

We arrived in the kitchen before I could come to any sort of helpful conclusion. Asgore sat me at the kitchen table and quickly moved to the fridge, plucking out ingredients one by one.

“I must apologize, I am a bit short on time for lunch,” Asgore spoke busily while pulling out plates and utensils, “Will sandwiches be sufficient enough?”

“Sure… fine by me.” I answered clumsily. Sandwiches? I don’t know what I expected underground monsters to eat, but I guess it wasn’t sandwiches. Still, it was nice to have some normalcy to my situation, as well as someone to make me something familiar for lunch.

“I’m sure you have many questions,” Asgore spoke diplomatically, “So feel free to ask me anything in the time we have while we eat.”

Damn, where to start. I watched hesitantly as he spread different condiments on each piece of bread, wanting to ask why he had me locked up and settling instead with some missing information.

“So, you said this was your castle, right? Are you, like… a king?”

“Oh, my apologies,” Asgore stopped to turn to me, “We had a bit of a messy introduction. I am Asgore Dreemurr, king of all monsters in the underground. Yes, this is my castle, I hope you are enjoying your stay here.” He gave me a royal bow.

I tried not to laugh at the corny theatrics. It’s not every day someone gives you a greeting like that, and I wasn’t totally prepared for it after last night’s first impressions.

“It’s a beautiful view of the city.” I spoke, unconsciously complying with Asgore’s regal sense of conversation.

“Yes, this time of day gives us the most light in the underground,” Asgore gazed dreamily to the window at the far end of the room. It never crossed my mind to ask Asgore about what he knew of the surface until now, but I just didn’t know how to phrase the question. He was a king after all, and as kind as he appeared, I didn’t want to risk the consequence of insulting his intelligence or something.

As I searched for the right question, Asgore came to the table with two plates, sitting across from me and handing me my sandwich. Honestly, this whole scenario was becoming a bit intimidating, I wasn’t sure if I could even look him in the eye for more than a second.

Asgore cleared his throat and took a bite of his sandwich. I hesitantly did the same, and I was surprised by the taste. It seemed familiar as a whole, but there was a lot that I couldn’t place in the ingredients.

“What is this?” I asked through my mouthful of bread.

“That’s my signature honey-mayo salad-wich!” Asgore beamed, his silly sandwich pride shining a bit out of character. Whatever mayonnaise he was talking about, it definitely didn’t taste like mayonnaise from the surface. I guess it wasn’t that surprising that some underground ingredients might taste differently.

“It’s pretty good.” I replied. And it was, in a way that was somehow equal parts familiar and completely alien. I took another bite.

“So…” Asgore studied me, “Surely you have more pressing questions than those about kings and sandwiches?”

I froze a little, wondering if I could really ask him what was on my mind. I decided to bite the bullet.

“Yeah, I guess I do, uh…” I put the sandwich down, “…I noticed the door was locked and I wanted to ask, why am I… locked up?”

“That is a good question,” Asgore paused before sturdying his posture like a respectful rock, “And I probably can’t give you a satisfying answer in the time we have, but for now just know that it’s… mostly for your own safety.”

“My own safety?” I thought out loud. Maybe I was right that he was protecting me from the other civilians down below. Or maybe he was lying.

“I can give you a more in depth answer at a later date, but for now you’ll just have to… trust me on this.” Asgore bit into his quickly depleting sandwich. I started to feel worry grow in my stomach with the amount of trust I had to place in Asgore.

“Anything else?”

I felt my sandwich staring back at me. “Can I get a glass of water?”

“Oh, of course,” Asgore moved from the table, “My apologies, surely you are parched from your healing.”

“My healing?”

"Right,” Asgore stood by the kitchen sink, “I used my magic to speed your recovery. It can take quite a toll on you by morning.”

I almost scoffed, “Wait, what do you mean magic?” I wasn’t prepared for his answer.

“Oh, that’s right… I suppose you humans are quick to forget,” Asgore paused in a kind of daze, “All monsters in the underground understand magic in some sense. Humans used to be similar until… well, that’s an entirely different conversation. The point is, yes, I understand you are likely unsure of my abilities, but I assure you that my magic is very much real.”

It’s almost like he could sense my skepticism, whether by using magic or just through his kingly sense of social awareness.

“Here, I will show you after you are finished eating,” He paced back to the table, placing the glass of water in front of me, “Any other questions?”

I struggled to think of anything in the face of my growing confusion. I gulped down the water to clear my head and finished my sandwich deep in thought. Asgore sat quietly and did the same.

Eventually, we both finished our lunch and sat awkwardly in silence. I knew there was something I should ask, such as how to get out of the underground, but at the rate of my previous questions’ answers, I almost felt that I probably didn’t want to know the truth. For now, I just wanted to be satisfied with a little sandwich.

“I suppose we are both finished here?” Asgore gestured to our plates, but his eyes pierced openly into mine. I nodded, and he took the empty dishes to the sink before returning with his arm outstretched to help me from my seat. I didn’t feel nearly as in pain as last night, but I still appreciated the gesture. He smiled down at me knowingly and spoke, “Now we should have just a little bit more time for a magic show.”

As Asgore’s intense height difference became painfully apparent, his playful comments sent butterflies to my stomach. I laughed awkwardly as he began guiding me out of the kitchen doors. I had to stop myself from entertaining a certain connotation in the uncomfortable silence of the hallways, and it didn’t help that by the time he led me to my room, he asked me to get comfortable in my bed. Once I was ready, he came to the side of the bed and knelt down, placing his hands on my cast. With his eyes closed, I could feel Asgore’s vague concentration as his hands began to hover over my leg. Just as I was sure nothing would happen, a soft pink haze started growing from his hands, and sure enough I began to feel some kind of energy growing within my leg.

“Whoa…” I trailed off my exclamation as the sensation rose to my head, sending a drowsy euphoria through my body. By the time I was able to negotiate with the feeling, Asgore was already up, standing next to the bed.

“I’m off now,” he smiled, “I’ll be back by tonight if you’re awake. Sweet dreams.”

And with that, he left me to meander in the growing haze. Soon enough the effect was visible, and much like Asgore predicted I felt myself drift off quickly into sleep.


	3. Giant Steps

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Naima](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=bPAC6zt_1ZM&ab_channel=JohnColtrane)

I woke up once again, this time with dreamy memories of Asgore’s gentle magic. It felt as though it had kept me warm throughout the night, like a soft buzz, and now in the stagnant morning air of an oversized bedroom I felt a cold hangover again. For a moment I felt needy, craving Asgore to be at my side again, to make me feel warm again. It was ridiculous, I knew next to nothing about him, and I was his prisoner after all.

Prisoner. I had been keeping my thoughts tame for as long as possible, but from the moment I met him, I knew that I found Asgore attractive. It wasn’t that I thought these feelings were inappropriate, I just felt they were ridiculously irresponsible considering the circumstances. Between the looming castle ceilings and the broken bones, I was originally able to ignore most of these thoughts out of fear, but now I felt a presence of heat in the castle. A heat that was not only beginning to warm my fears away, but quite literally heal my wounds as well. In fact, I could tell from just lying in bed that the pain in my leg was significantly lessened from what it was the first night. I stayed there in bed, trying to find a reason to get up and move, but all I could do was lay and dream in thoughts of Asgore’s warmth and magic. Staring awkwardly at the ceiling, I almost hated myself for my inability to shake the feeling, and soon other thoughts began to worm their way in.

I imagined Asgore in bed with me, just holding me, protecting our heat from the cold castle. His broad, fluffy chest against my back, his giant arm wrapped around my bare torso. My shaky breath escaped me as I imagined his big snout nestling under my neck, fitting like a puzzle piece. A bigger, stable side piece.

This was enough to make me feel a tightness under the covers, growing strong given the couple days of absence and lack of distracting leg pain. I guess now was as good a time as ever, I thought. I wasn’t sure I could handle any physical guiding, or god forbid, any more bridal style carrying from Asgore until I let out some tension.

I sighed. I couldn’t do it in the bed. If I got it on the sheets, Asgore would probably find out some way or the other. Plus, it didn’t feel right to come on royal linens after only living here a couple days.

I got out of bed and noticed an unexplored door in my room. My brain clicked as I made my way to it. Of course I had a bathroom, I just didn’t notice it yesterday in my water-deprived hangover. This made the memory of my visit to Asgore’s bathroom feel even more invasive. It really wasn’t that weird, but considering I was probably about to feel myself to the thought of him, it really didn’t help.

When I stepped into the bathroom, I turned on the shower immediately to kill the uncomfortable silence. The frustration of messing with new shower knobs was only accentuated by the underground technology, but soon enough I was able to get some hot water. I hesitated, wondering if I should remove my cast first. It would be gross if it got all wet, and my leg was feeling much better…

I took the cast off as quickly as possible, the lingering thoughts in the back of my mind urging me to get moving to the main event. I stepped delicately with my able leg into the shower, the warm water soothing it and beckoning the rest of me inside. The warmth brought back all the previous thoughts of Asgore, returning images of us cuddled close in bed. It made my heart skip a beat to imagine his massive, bare chest again, how his fur would envelop every nerve of my body. His golden-white coat, warm as the sun.

As sweet as these thoughts were, they weren’t getting me as far as I really wanted. My hand moved to my dick as I envisioned a kiss with Asgore, warm and concentrated under the covers of a royal bed. His giant form overwhelming my much smaller frame, nearly enveloping me fully as he would bring both arms around me in his kiss. As our tongues would dare to inch further together, we would both grow hard against each other. I tried to picture his size, I mean surely he was big, there was no doubt about it.

I was fully erect now under the shower’s current, back against the wall to help steady my untrustworthy legs. I thought once more about Asgore holding my bare leg, willing his tender magic into me, both of us naked as he crawled on top of me to meet face to face. His broad chest swaying above mine, his massive arms pinning me down effortlessly, our two cocks pressed against each other tightly, growing harder and wetter with each second. All of this and another kiss on top of everything, his dominant stature pushing me down into the bed as my dick begged for mercy. The thought of us maintaining that pressure as he slowly entered me, that was enough to send me over the edge. The warmth in me released into the shower’s current, my knees buckling so hard I almost thought I would fall.

And I did fall. Underestimating my very much still broken leg, I collapsed onto the hard floor of the shower, wailing a loud “fuck!” as I impacted with the tile. I rested back on the wall as the merciless showerhead continued to rain down on me, and the uncomfortable view from the ground began to rise some panic in me. I tried to move my broken leg and it was met with immediate pain. Now I was worried. I didn’t even know what time it was, what if Asgore was still out?

Just as my thoughts were beginning to spiral, I heard a knock at the door.

“Are you okay in there?” a muffled Asgore asked from outside. A mix of relief and panic filled my conscious at the thought of Asgore coming in to help.

“I… I fell down.” I winced, both at the pain and at myself.

“Do you need my assistance?”

Assistance. God, his choice of words could be a bit annoying in scenarios like this. I didn’t know what to say. Trying my leg once more, I quickly realized the answer to that question. At least by now I wasn’t hard anymore. I had no choice.

“Y-yeah, I do.” I replied.

There was a pause. Asgore entered hesitantly, and I flushed with embarrassment. I could hardly look at him, attempting to hide my nakedness behind my legs as he moved closer. He immediately shut off the shower before trying to help me up, picking up my weight easily to bring me to my one good foot. With his sturdy arm wrapped around the back of my neck, I began to panic as I realized I was getting slightly hard again. My eyes darted around the room for an escape.

“Uh, my crutches,” I found my way out, “Could you get my crutches?”

Asgore paused. “Of course, are you sure that you can stand?”

“Yep.” I hissed a bit too quickly at his drawn out formal speak. I rested against the wall as Asgore retreated back into the bedroom, my everything out on display in this position and impossible to hide. I didn’t know what to do, and I knew he was on his way back.

Sure enough, Asgore entered without error while my junk lounged freely out in the open. He delicately handed me my crutches.

“Do you need anything else, perhaps a towel?”

“I’m good.” I abruptly cut again, my embarrassment showing. Asgore nodded, looking away before swiftly heading out the door. I stood there for a while silently, still dripping onto the cold bathroom tile as I contemplated the last half hour of my life. Eventually, I found my own towel in the bathroom cabinets and held it over my head as a temporary hiding place, only heading back to my room to avoid the cast’s dismembered carcass laughing at me from the bathroom floor.

I got dressed quickly. Well, as quickly as possible with my heightened pain. I couldn’t believe all that had happened, the sheer embarrassment begged me to go back to sleep, to never leave this cold prison room again. Starving, I limped into bed, my prickling stomach only making the pain and stress worse. And just to add the cherry on top, as I pulled the covers up to my head, I felt the needy craving return. My heart lurched at the thought of Asgore coming back in and laughing it off, our conversation reconciling to my imaginative cuddle session like nothing ever happened.

I rolled over to face the ceiling. I was so desperate it was disgusting, I thought. The way I trusted Asgore almost unconditionally given my situation was concerning enough alone, and now I found myself losing control around just the thought of him. It felt like eternity, hours of me berating myself for my horny intent only to comfort myself with even more timid thoughts of Asgore. With everything in my life swept out from under me, I found it difficult to really blame myself. He was kind of the only comfort I had, everything else I owned quite literally destroyed.

And then at some point I heard a knock at the door.

“May I come in?”

Every muscle of mine froze up. Of course you can come in, I almost wanted to say. All I could muster was a timid “Yeah”.

Asgore entered slowly with what looked to be a plate of food. “I thought you might be hungry.”

Always on top of it, this one. I mustered some kind of smile, “Yeah, I am.”

Asgore nodded and moved to my bed side, offering a wonderful underground breakfast plate that looked like… well eggs were about the only thing familiar. I didn’t know what anything else was, but I was grateful regardless.

“I must ask,” Asgore prodded as I bit into something unfamiliar, “Have your injuries worsened at all?”

I felt my face heat up. “Y-yeah, I fell on my leg a bit too… hard in the shower.” My embarrassment helped me distract from the pain.

“That’s alright,” Asgore motioned to move past our awkward memory, “Just try to be more careful next time.”

“I will.” I looked down uncomfortably at my food. It tasted good, whatever it was, but I felt at odds with myself. Equal parts happy to be pampered by Asgore with breakfast in bed and uncomfortable at the blatant confrontation of my slight feelings for him, I just couldn’t look him in the eye.

“I suppose I’ll need to give you another healing then.” Asgore pulled a chair up next to the bed. “I can wait till you are finished eating, of course.”

No rush, I guess. Asgore’s presence was a little intimidating, but I wanted to talk to him more, to have him stay near my bed and humor me just a little longer. I deflected, “I… I have some more questions.”

Asgore paused, shifting uncomfortably. “Alright then.”

I desperately searched my brain for anything, recalling the last question I could remember bugging me from yesterday. “What do you know about the surface?”

Asgore was silent for a moment. “Well, quite a lot, really. I used to live there after all.”

“What, really?”

“Yes, really. It was a long, long time ago. Humans and monsters attempted to coexist on the surface, but…” Asgore trailed off, “we… cannot return.”

“Why not?”

“Well, I am sure you would understand the consequence of reaction upon our return.” Asgore spoke in monotone.

“I mean I guess," I was confused. "But why come here in the first place then?”

Asgore grew sullen quickly. I was beginning to feel like I was pushing too much.

“I cannot understand why they would not even tell you…” he looked physically pained, “We monsters were… sealed underground by ancient human magic long ago, after they banished us here. Away from the surface.”

He was noticeably frustrated. I didn’t know how to reply, let alone whether or not I believed him. After a long silence, I decided to speak. “You’re right, I haven’t heard about any of this before. You’re saying humans used to have magic? Are you telling me that I might have some kind of magic too?”

“It is possible,” Asgore mumbled with a strange bitterness. “Though I would not be so surprised if humanity were to lose their touch with magic over the years.”

I could tell this was a touchy subject. I wanted to know why, Asgore clearly wasn’t giving me the full picture, but I knew prodding more might be a bad idea. I was ready to drop it when Asgore turned to me.

“I would like to ask you a question.” Asgore was stern, “What were you doing on the surface so that you dropped right into our castle?”

I was taken aback. There was a mild hostility in his voice, something I couldn’t place. Was this actually why he had me locked up? Did he think I was a spy of some sort? Searching for an answer to his original question, I remembered the day out on Mt. Ebott and turned red again. It seemed day after day I was only embarrassing myself.

“I… was running away.” I confessed shakily to Asgore, “I needed a break from everything really. I felt kind of... trapped, and I just... I didn’t even mean to find this place, I got caught in this sinkhole or something… it was an accident."

I wondered if he even believed me, and when I looked back at him for a reaction, I was surprised to find his receptive, focused eyes. I found myself spilling more, just because a part of me knew he would listen, “I really don't know what I was doing. My whole life… my connections to everyone else just didn’t make sense anymore. It all just felt like… a social expectation thing. Like I wasn’t in control of my actions or emotions anymore… and I was lashing out by running away.”

The room fell silent, and Asgore held his gaze as I sheepishly stared at my hands. Something sympathetic resonated in his eyes every time I'd peek a look, something that made it difficult to look away. The tension seemed to grow too much for even him, and he unfolded his hands, sitting up.

“Well, I can understand things like that are difficult at your human age.” He spoke fatherly.

“You probably think I’m an idiot,” I scoffed.

“Of course not.” His voice was soft like a pillow.

“Well I feel like one.” I was moping now, fully aware I would come off as an annoying brat, but I did it anyway because I knew Asgore would listen. My sudden dependency on his attention was concerning, but with each conversation I found myself needing it more and more. I wondered if this was some kind of magic spell he was putting on me without my knowledge. His kind eyes watching me at all times, his patient shoulders standing gently to attention. His presence of benevolent heat.

I curled up in the covers, unable to look at him. For a while, we both sat in a silence that grew more comfortable with each passing moment. Soon a calm quiet lived with us in the room, and I almost began to feel at peace when a large hand placed itself on my leg.

“May I give you your healing?” Asgore leaned nearer to my head from behind. The way he had to say it so gently and carefully, I couldn’t stand it.

“Sure,” I had to hold back a smile when I saw his face, “And thank you for breakfast.”

Asgore gave a sweet smile back, “I am glad you enjoyed it.”

He then shifted to the end of the bed to focus on my leg, and I watched as he practiced the same technique from yesterday, closing his eyes and hovering his hands over me. Once again, the pink haze appeared, and I could already feel its soothing euphoria wash over my broken bone. When the buzz rushed to my head I smiled freely, melting into the blankets like quicksand. Asgore stood abruptly, leaving too soon just like yesterday. I tried to spot him through the haze, as I could feel him staring back, but he said nothing, leaving me to sink away from consciousness alone.


	4. Leaves Turn Inside You

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Sparks](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ar48yzjn1PE&ab_channel=SomberSounds/)

I woke up once again to a cold ceiling threatening my warm bed. The remaining heat trapped my leg under the covers, reminding me not to try anything stupid today. I stayed in bed for a while, wanting to soak up the warmth I’d built up overnight before inevitably journeying out through the cold hallway in search of Asgore. For a while I waited and hoped for his impeccable timing to spring in through my door once again, but he never showed.

I huffed when I felt my back start to ache. I couldn’t risk another shower after what happened yesterday, so I conceded to just getting out of bed. Out into the hallway, a quick glance around the fork for Asgore turned no results, and my stomach quickly urged me to check the kitchen.

And there he was, hunched at the table eating… lunch? It was really difficult to tell what time it was in the underground. He noticed me enter the room and he shot up, surprised. I smiled with an awkward wave and crutched my way over.

“Good morning.” I was somehow the first to chime in, unexpectedly outpacing Asgore’s kingly hospitality.

Asgore cleared his throat and replied dryly. “Good morning.”

So it _was_ morning. I could tell by the sound of his voice that he had just woken up, tiredly eating his strange underground breakfast.

“If you would like to join me, I made more than enough breakfast in case you were to wake up,” he recovered into his usual politeness, “There is tea next to the stove if you would like some.”

“Thank you.” I shuffled awkwardly around his massive kitchen, studying the breakfast he made. What I found was surprisingly… vegetable-y. Like a weird vegetable sandwich I didn’t quite see the appeal of. I shrugged it off, put one on a plate, and poured myself some tea. I honestly wasn’t much of a tea drinker either, but I guess this morning I’d be trying something new.

I sat opposite to Asgore at the table, beginning to worry I wouldn’t be able to make conversation with a sleepy Asgore. I bit into the sandwich to avoid the responsibility, surprised to find it to be sweet and… salty? It must have been the sweet bun and some kind of light sauce, padded with leafy vegetables that I didn’t think would fit in as a whole. It was still weird, not my typical breakfast food, but not bad. I looked up to find Asgore staring.

“What do you think?” he asked before sipping his tea.

“It’s weird, I’ve never had something like this before on the surface.” I compensated my poor review with a chuckle. “But it’s good.”

“Try the tea,” he suggested quietly.

His tone shook me for some reason, the tired rasp in his voice somehow becoming more apparent the quieter he spoke. I took the cup in my hand and gave it a try.

Honey… _really_ sweet. Almost too sweet the moment it hit your tongue, dying quickly into a more subtle honey flavor. Asgore waited for the herbal aftertaste to hit my tongue before he spoke, “And how was it?”

“Interesting.” I was legitimately perplexed. I had had tea before but never like this. “I don’t usually drink tea, but this is… really good.”

Asgore smiled. “It is my favorite. I am glad to share it with you this morning.”

_Too polite_ , I thought as I felt myself turn red, sipping more tea to avoid his gaze. The domestic quiet of the kitchen grew louder against the honey taste, and I had to wonder what I had been missing out on every morning here.

“Well,” Asgore had finished his plate, “I must be off to work later, but I have about an hour if you would like to do anything else.”

I froze, looking up from my cup. “Like what?”

“I don’t know,” he huffed uncharacteristically as he gazed out the window. “Would you like a haircut?”

“A haircut?” Where the hell was this coming from?

“Yes, have you not noticed?” Asgore looked quizzically back at me.

“Noticed what?”

“Your hair has grown a lot!” He smiled playfully, “It is likely a side effect of the healing, as it speeds your body’s growth and development.”

I didn’t know what to say, caught off guard by the idea of other side effects Asgore may have not told me about.

“Come on, it won’t take long.” Asgore reached for my hand and I subconsciously obliged, distracted by his sudden playfulness and change in tone. I didn’t expect him to be able to switch this fast to being cheery from his morning rasp just minutes ago.

He helped me to my feet and began guiding me to the living room area separate from the kitchen, setting a seat in the middle of the open room. Asgore gestured me to sit down, gently placing my crutches against the couch before he left the room. I sat puzzled and honestly intimidated at the possibilities of the next hour, once again doubting my ability to make conversation with the king of the underground.

Asgore came back quickly with handfuls of haircut gear: a spray bottle, a professional hair cape, a hand mirror, and an assortment of combs and scissors. I was taken aback at his grade of professionalism, but as a king I guess it wasn’t surprising that he had the money to divulge in this stuff. I laughed at the idea of a government official doing haircuts as a side gig.

“Here,” Asgore handed me the mirror, “how short would you like it?”

I was shocked to find that my hair really had grown out by a lot, in just a couple of days too. Staring uncomfortably into my reflection, I was reminded of my real life on the surface, how the recollection of my face felt like it had no practical grounding here in this underground palace. Even more bizarre was the comfort I felt in avoiding the thought by looking away.

“What’s wrong?” Asgore stood tall above me, comically confused as he held his various combs.

I laughed, “Nothing.” I started thinking about my hair, “How many more times will I need your healing until my leg gets better?”

Asgore frowned at the implications of my question. “I would only recommend one more session, so by tomorrow it should be fairly comfortable and painless to walk.” He paused, and then smirked. “That is if you don’t further injure yourself.”

My relief was cut with shock. I was surprised he would actually make a joke about what happened yesterday. I wasn’t offended, just taken aback. I smiled in disbelief. “Well I guess you can cut it shorter then if it’ll grow back a little by tomorrow.”

Asgore smiled warmly, “Alright, short it is.” He spun me around in my chair and carefully tied the hair cape around my neck. I almost gulped as his hands reached near my neck, buttoning the top of the cape shut at my back.

“Is it too tight?” His voice rumbled low behind me.

“No.” I felt myself burn red.

Asgore began preparing his equipment as I struggled to fight away his charms. It really surprised me how deep his voice could project, as well as the effect it had on me. I did my best to put it out of my mind for my own sake.

He started by spritzing my hair with water to get it wet. I sat squinting through the mist as he worked behind me in silence. My growing anxiety was hoping for more of a barber shop experience, isn’t gossip and conversation a big part of getting a haircut? I scrambled desperately for a starter topic, but out of panic, nothing came.

A shiver fell down my back as I felt the comb against the back of my head, a couple preparatory strokes before the scissors began snipping away at the ends of my hair. I could feel our continued lack of conversation growing more and more uncomfortable, but I didn’t want to force anymore questions with uncomfortable answers. Why couldn’t Asgore actually play the part of the hairdresser and take control already?

The cold scissors continued to snip around my right ear, the silvery back tight against my skin so that Asgore wouldn’t accidentally cut me. It was bizarrely sensual, somehow more so than yesterday’s shower escapades. Probably because I was so in shock then, whereas here this feeling was quiet and growing. The way his hands moved through my hair methodically made me feel small, a strange perspective that I was beginning to grow fond of. Asgore moved to my other ear to repeat the almost ticklish sensation, and I took a slow breath to shake any more thoughts about it away.

“So…” My subconscious spit out the word as I stared down at the hair cape.

“So.” Asgore rumbled back, mocking me with a prolonged silence.

I wanted to glare at him for staying quiet. “Sorry, I guess I’m just bored,” I tried sarcastically, my head too hazy to think of anything to say.

“Oh, I apologize,” Asgore chided, “Perhaps I should just shave it all to get it over with.”

I laughed. “Only if you help me grow it back with your magic.”

“Overusing healing magic can have strange effects with prolonged use,” he lectured, and then snickered, “However, you would make a good egg.”

Somehow that got a genuine laugh out of me. Every now and then Asgore would say something playful and completely out of character, surprising and unwarranted. And each time it would fill my stomach with confusion, threatening a contagious and goofy smile. It wasn’t even that funny, but the break from his usual well-mannered speaking gave it that well-timed punch. His idea of a joke was almost fatherly, and I had to consciously suppress myself from giving his horrible jokes the satisfaction of a successful landing.

“Please don’t shave my head,” I remarked seriously.

“Not to worry, you are in good hands,” he hummed.

The silence that followed was surprisingly comfortable. Sounds of snipping and shuffling filled the living room, my wet hair leaving me even colder than the usual temperature of Asgore’s giant castle. Even so, the presence of Asgore’s big hands on the back of my head sent a buzz through my bones, a sensation I could see myself getting addicted to easily. I sat quietly, and it wasn’t long before Asgore came back around to face me, working on my front.

It was tense, to say the least. Asgore’s eyes formed an offset stare at all times, clipping bits and pieces around my vision. He seemed focused, but his distraction never lessened my nerves. I didn’t know what face to make or what to say, so I simply sat and let him do his thing. Eventually, he stopped and stepped back for a moment, studying his work before moving in close again.

“Here, tip your head up.”

Except instead of letting me, Asgore rested his hand under my chin, lifting it ever so slightly. I felt my heart slide to the back of my chest as if by gravity, staring Asgore down as he concentrated back on my symmetry. His mouth hung just barely open as he began to cut little pieces, and something about its implication sent excitement through my nerves. I waited for the moment our eyes would lock, and I feared the kiss that lingered expectantly on my lips, but our eyes remained astray until Asgore finally stepped back to look at me. He smiled.

“All done!”

His toothy grin felt too oblivious to be real. I knew my feelings had to be ridiculously one-sided, like a first high school crush on a straight guy. This was just history repeating itself in a more… fantastical way than usual. Asgore passed me the mirror, and I gazed into it longingly. He did a fine job, not that it was really that difficult to cut short hair, but I couldn’t find the strength to look back up at him. I just stared back at my hungry reflection.

“What do you think?”

“Looks good.” I recovered with a forced smile. “Thank you.”

To make the pining worse, Asgore playfully tossed a towel on my cold head. I ruffled my hair into it to dry off and looked up to see Asgore moving towards the couch. A pang flashed in my chest as I realized I had to deal with him emotionally for another thirty minutes. I stood as Asgore gestured to the couch across from him expectantly, his knightly manners not allowing his body to relax before mine. I stifled a sigh and followed his well-intentioned gesture, collapsing into the couch while he sat down politely. Even the seating across from Asgore felt cold and lonely. I could feel our separation in more ways than one, the dynamic between us growing a bit tired at my current emotional stage.

“Now what?” I spoke frustrated and unconsciously.

A flash of puzzled emotion ran across Asgore’s face as he stifled his manners, “Well, I was hoping we could have a nice chat before I must leave.”

I rested my chin on my hand, unable to look at the goat man. “A chat about what?”

Asgore furrowed his expression. “Well, anything… is something the matter?”

I was being too obvious. I don’t know how Asgore kept this polite charade up all day, he really must be that genuinely kind. For my own wellbeing I hoped so.

“Can I ask you again…” I couldn’t stop myself, “why you really have me locked up in here?”

Asgore’s cheery demeanor dwindled quickly. It was his turn to avert his gaze, “I believe I said it was for your own safety, yes?”

“Yes,” I studied him, “But you also said that there was more to it… and you would explain further when you had more time.”

Asgore paused. “Yes… I did.”

I had to stop myself from throwing out a “well?”, each prolonged moment of silence building my anxiety. Asgore began looking back and forth from the floor to his hands, uncomfortably avoiding honest eye contact. It was obvious now there was something he wasn’t telling me, but it seemed as though he wanted to.

“It is the truth that other monsters in the underground would not be agreeable with your presence here,” Asgore began, “But the… more honest truth is that, well… my keeping of you here is not exactly… legal.”

I was confused. “Legal? Aren’t you the king?”

Asgore shifted uncomfortably. “I suppose the… _actual_ truth is a bit… hypocritical.”

“Hypocritical?” I was getting nervous. “What do you mean? Why aren’t humans allowed to be here?”

“I told you our history, did I not?” Asgore grew slightly defensive. “It is a matter of… public opinion, among other things.”

I didn’t know what to think, and I felt myself growing irrationally furious. “Public opinion?” I raised my voice. “It’s not my fault I fell down here in the first place! What am I supposed to do, just sit around here and die?”

“I do not think you understand the gravity of your situation, nor the generosity to which I have shown you, human!” Asgore bellowed back at me. “There is a lot of expectation I have to live up to as king; it is not as simple as you would believe.”

Expectation. I felt myself sink into the couch cushions, the line of irony coming full circle. If I had big floppy ears like Asgore, I’m sure they would slide shamefully back behind my ears the way his were reacting now. Asgore’s situation really wasn’t all that different from mine, even though I wasn’t even close to experiencing anything like his position back on the surface. I’m sure his version of my projected problems were likely much worse.

“I’m sorry.” I apologized.

“No, it was rude of me to shout at you.” Asgore looked away, frustrated yet concentrated. He gave a heavy sigh, “I should probably be off soon, I… may need a moment to get my thoughts together.”

I felt another stab of guilt, but I had to second guess its validity. I’m still a prisoner, and I really shouldn’t feel that bad just because I upset the king’s morning routine, right?

“Do you mind if I ask you a favor?” I spoke up quickly.

Asgore seemed caught off guard. “Hm?”

“Could I use that last healing session now?” I felt my needy intentions creeping out. “I don’t think I want to be awake and alone here all day… and I’d like to get back to walking on two legs soon.”

For some reason I felt like I was asking too much. I kept reminding myself that I owed Asgore nothing, but watching him look so defeated was beginning to hurt me as well.

“Sure.” He sounded tired. “Come.”

Asgore gestured away from the couch, and I stood and limped to his guidance. He accompanied me silently through the hallway once again to my room, perhaps for the last time if I was healed by tomorrow. To be honest, my leg felt a lot better, but out of fear of being alone in the cold castle, I craved the sleep that I knew only Asgore could give me.

We arrived quietly to my room and I limped to the bed. Asgore set my crutches against the night table and leaned down slowly to my side. Silently and slowly, he began his procedure once more, placing his hands on my leg. When the haze appeared, I could almost feel his melancholy, his regret. A sad wave washed over my body accompanied by the usual warmth. It wasn’t quite what I expected it to be, but in it I felt a similar feeling to what I had been experiencing the past couple days: loneliness.

I wanted to see Asgore’s face, to see what this emotion might have read on his expression, but my eyes were already failing me. I could feel his presence moving on out the door, and I succumbed once again to his warm sleep.


	5. Room On Fire

I woke up suddenly in the dark, the warmth of Asgore’s magic absent from inside of me. It must have been nighttime, as the only instance I remember it being this dark was the first time I awoke after my fall. I got out of bed.

Feet stinging on the cold floor, I registered the state of my injury. It felt fine, and as I stood my leg supported my weight as if it had never been broken. I recalled the fall, still in shock that I only ended up with a broken leg, and now amazed that it had healed. Through the work of the magic overnight, my body felt dried up and uncomfortably clear minded. Asgore’s magic really worked miracles.

The thought of him reminded me of our brief quarrel. I wondered if he was even awake. The idea of having to spend the night alone seemed much worse than my fears from yesterday. Or today? What time was it? I had to wonder if time even mattered anymore.

It had been a couple days, and there was nothing I wanted more from the cold castle than a shower. Monitoring my leg just to be careful, I entered the bathroom and turned the shower on. I spotted my reflection in the mirror, recalling Asgore’s haircut from yesterday, and I couldn’t help but smile a little. I really was a prisoner, in more ways than one.

I stepped into the hot shower with too many thoughts racing under the warm waterfall. As I began to understand the politics of my existence underground, it was starting to take an emotional toll on me, and I almost just wanted to play dumb to it all. To forget about it until I could actually process it, whenever that would be. My warm escape lasted only a little while before I decided to step out, getting dressed only to sit defeated on my bed. Mind racing, yet infinitely empty and anxious.

No point in laying around, I decided to look for Asgore. Out into the hallway, and like déjà vu from the first night, I noticed the light drifting in from the library. Once again, I peeked through the door to find Asgore sitting in his same Hawaiian shirt from that first night, turned away from me just like when I met him. It was bizarre, and I almost thought I was dreaming until I stepped inside and watched him turn around with a smile.

“Oh, you’re awake.”

“Yeah…” I felt like an intruder. “Can I come in?”

“Of course.” Asgore cleared his throat and began moving some bottles. That was enough to make me smell what was actually going on.

I hesitated for a moment, deciding on how to approach my next question. “Is underground alcohol stronger than the surface stuff?” I half joked as I made my way around the couch.

Asgore scoffed lightly. “I couldn’t say. Ours is pretty strong, in my experience.”

“Can I try?” I couldn’t help but give Asgore a cheeky smile.

He hesitated, a smirk creeping on to his face. “Why not…”

I sat down in the closest chair, diagonal from the couch Asgore rested on. He seemed to be in a good mood despite our small argument from yesterday, but it might’ve just been the alcohol. He handed me a bottle of something I assumed was beer, my first sip proving my expectations… correct?

“Is this some kind of beer?” I winced at the taste.

“Oh, are humans still brewing on the surface?”

“Of course.” I guess beer is as old as civilization itself, I thought. Perhaps Asgore had shared a drink with humans long ago, before the monsters’ exile. The idea begged the question: how old was Asgore anyway? I didn’t really know how to ask, surprised I hadn’t thought of that question before. I took another big sip.

“What do you think?” Asgore stared me down.

“It’s beer alright,” I laughed, “Not my favorite thing to drink, I usually go for something harder.”

“Oh really?” Asgore narrowed his eyes. “Are you old enough to drink on the surface?”

I laughed again. “Pretty much, close enough.”

Asgore gave a wise smile back, standing up to investigate a nearby cabinet. It was filled with all kinds of bottles, something I hadn’t noticed the few times I’d peered into this room.

“Well, what do you have in mind?” He stood with his hands on his hips in front of the cabinet.

Was I really going to start drinking after I just woke up? Whatever, I tried with the first thing I could think of. “Do you have whiskey underground?”

“Oh, of course.” Asgore made his choice quickly at my request, grabbing two glasses from the shelf before coming back to the couch. “I was not planning to drink too much tonight, but this turn of events seems interesting enough to entertain.”

I had to stop myself from pondering exactly what he meant, watching as Asgore poured me a glass of assumingly expensive whiskey. The regal study setting made just about any bottle look fancy. Not so sure what I was getting into, but I was content to settle for a drink with Asgore, certainly the most entertaining thing to happen around here so far.

“Here you are.” Asgore inched one of the glasses closer to me, and I grabbed it hesitantly, nervous at the implications of a lost civilization’s liquor. Asgore and I locked eyes warmly before taking mutual sips, my limited experience with alcohol leaving me wincing in pain at the overwhelming taste on my tongue. Asgore noticed my discomfort, breathing out a short whimsical laugh.

“Whiskey, eh?”

“Shut up,” I set the glass down, “I don’t usually _sip_ stuff, I guess.”

“That’s quite alright,” Asgore smiled calmly into his glass, “It is nice to have someone to share a drink with, regardless.”

My newly warmed chest flipped a little, and I had to make a conscious effort to recover. “Well thanks for having me.” Whatever that meant in this weird situation.

The pitfall in my reply seemed obvious to Asgore, and he staggered in his own response. “How are your injuries faring?”

“My leg? It feels a lot better; I can actually walk on it now.”

“That is great to hear.” Asgore unconsciously gestured his glass towards me in a half-toast, and we both took a sip to fill the silence. Was alcohol really enough to fill the awkward distance between me and Asgore?

“Should we play a game?” he spoke out of nowhere.

“A game?”

“A drinking game.” He confirmed, “Perhaps make things a little more interesting.”

“Don’t you have work tomorrow?” I scoffed at him.

“I can take off work whenever I want,” he boasted comically, “I am the king, am I not?”

I laughed. “Of course, your highness.”

I meant it as a joke, but something about those words lit a tension in the air, and I scrambled to mentally dismiss the connotation quickly.

“Sure, let’s play a game.”

“And what should we play…” Asgore hummed in thought. “Have you ever played bear paw?”

“Bear paw?”

“It is an old Russian game, if I remember correctly,” Asgore explained, “You fill a glass with beer and pass it back and forth to sip, and with every sip you replace the drink with something stronger.”

“What? How is that a game?” I laughed. “Also, how do you know about Russian drinking games? How old are you, anyway?”

“Older than you would believe.” He chuckled. Worth a try, I guess. “Do you have any better ideas?”

“There’s not many two person drinking games.” I began racking my brain for ideas. “We could do… truth or dare?”

“Truth or dare…” Asgore pondered, “How juvenile.”

“Juvenile?” I scoffed. “I’m surprised you know it.”

“Of course, truth or dare is as old as time.” Asgore kidded. “You go first.”

What a gentleman. “Okay, truth or dare?”

“Truth.”

I jumped back on my original question. “Seriously, how old are you?”

“How rude,” Asgore glanced at his glass for a moment, “I believe at least a thousand years old… you begin to lose track over time, but does it matter at this age?”

I didn’t even know how to respond to that. “Are you being serious?”

“I am. I do not age, that is not unless I have…” Asgore looked away. “Well, that can be your next question.”

“Oh, come on.” I whined. “That’s not fair.”

“Oh, fine.” Asgore sighed, “I don’t age unless I have a… living successor.”

“Successor?” His choice of words again. “You mean like a child?”

“Yes, like a child.” He gazed awkwardly at his glass. I got the feeling that I asked something I shouldn’t have again.

“Well, alright,” I tried to recover. “Your turn.”

Asgore chimed in post sip. “Truth or dare?”

Fuck it. “Dare.”

“I dare you to drink the rest of your glass.”

“God dammit.” I smiled. “And what, if I don’t I have to drink anyway?”

Asgore chuckled. “I suppose so.”

I laughed. “This shit is rigged.” Turning my attention to the glass, I prepared myself and took a big swig, letting the sharp taste empty into my mouth. I recovered poorly, attempting to revive myself as Asgore laughed at me.

“Excellent,” he chuckled, “Now, your turn.”

“…Truth or dare?” I rasped from the pain in the back of my throat.

“Truth.”

Damn. “Um…” I looked around the room for some kind of hint. Surely something in the king’s library would give me an idea, right? The pressure of my silence intensified as Asgore refilled my glass, and I jumped on the first thing that entered my mind. “Do you actually like being king? Like, does work suck?” I compromised my shitty question with a laugh.

Asgore shuffled uncertainly. “I like it enough.” He paused. “It can be demanding, but it is my job regardless.”

“Alright, boring answer.” I teased. “Your turn.”

“Truth… or _dare_?”

“Truth.”

“Hmmm…” He swirled his drink thoughtfully. I could feel the mutual setting of alcohol in both of our stomachs as silence filled the room. Asgore’s gaze transitioned to a focus, and eventually he spoke. “Forgive my serious tone, but I must ask. Do you feel like a prisoner here?”

The question took me by surprise. That was the exact word I had been thinking of for the past couple of days, but I didn’t want him to hear me confirm it. “N-no, not at all.”

He held his gaze for a moment. “Are you lying?”

I froze under his interrogation, face to face with admitting my own Stockholm syndrome. Hoping to appear as some kind of joke, I reached for my glass and took a swig. I really didn’t want to think about any of this shit, and in all honesty, I longed for the influence of more alcohol in my system. The moment I set my glass down I knew I had fucked up, leaving a void of awkward embarrassment between the two of us. Nothing to do but act like it didn’t happen. “…truth or dare?”

He maintained a serious expression. “Truth.”

“What’s with all the truths?” I narrowed my eyes at him.

“I am playing fair, am I not?”

I didn’t even know what questions to ask anymore, let alone what questions it seemed he wanted me to ask. “Why won’t you pick dare?”

Asgore eyed me curiously. “Is that your question?”

“Yeah, that’s my question.”

“Well…” Asgore scoffed, leaving his answer unfinished. For some reason he was at a loss for words, eyes gazing around the room aimlessly. Suddenly, they glinted with the realization of their escape route, and Asgore turned back to me, raising his glass in a toast to mock my last answer.

I stared at him as he threw back his drink. “Really?”

He pushed through my comment with the triumphant clink of his glass on the table. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

Asgore sat quietly for a moment. “I dare you to finish your glass.”

“Oh my god, are you kidding me? You can’t think of anything else?” I burst, trying not to give him the satisfaction of a laugh.

Asgore smirked mischievously in his seat. A thousand years old, my ass. Out of any other options, I forced another mental “fuck it” and downed the glass, quick to picking my next question. “Truth or dare?”

“…Truth.”

“Of course,” I expected as much, “Why are you trying to get me so drunk?” I teased.

Asgore gave a hearty laugh, so hearty that it took him a moment to recover. “I apologize, I don’t want to dare my _prisoner_ to do strange things.” His laugh slowed. “It feels too invasive.”

“Come on, it’s the spirit of the game.” I teased, “Now it’s your turn.”

“Alright, truth or dare?”

“Truth, I guess.”

Asgore froze in an open smile, searching the room as he scratched his head. He looked down at his giant feet with a thought, and I could feel something troublesome coming. He smirked and narrowed his eyes at me. “Did you fall in the shower on purpose?”

Well that came out of nowhere. He must have been pretty drunk to be able to ask something that boldly out of character from his usual pleasant conversation. I had to consciously hold back a smile at the unraveling of our boundaries. “No, I didn’t fall on purpose. It was traumatizing.” I laughed, “Truth or dare?”

Asgore gazed back at me with a knowing smile. He sighed, “Dare.”

I felt my heart gulp. Well I had him where I wanted him, but was I bold enough as him to say something forward? A part of me begged to try something stupid, like “I dare you to take off your shirt”. Now that I was actually thinking about it, what could I really dare him to do? Insecure in my confidence, I decided on the easy route. “I dare you to finish your glass.”

Asgore laughed at that one. “Fair enough,” and he gulped it down effortlessly. Just from watching him drink I could feel the alcohol buzzing through my own body. I guess it had been a while since I had gotten drunk, and my empty stomach was the cherry on top of my lightweight experience. Asgore swallowed loudly and looked back at me. “Truth or dare?”

“Dare.”

I watched him struggle to come up with anything. At this point of the game, I understood there wasn’t much left to try without pushing things. Even so, I didn’t expect what he had coming, “I dare you to answer my other question. Tell me how you really feel about your situation here.”

Confused, I froze. “Isn’t that kind of cheating?”

“The nature of the game, my friend.” Asgore scooted along the couch seat, closer to me. “Honestly, I want to know.”

Well, what could I really say out loud? I gave it as genuine a start as I could, “Well honestly I find myself trusting you more than I feel I should.” I averted his gaze. “I believe you have good intentions… even though, yes, I do feel like a prisoner sometimes.”

I could feel Asgore’s stare even as I looked away. For a while I waited for the usual royal apology, but it never came. I turned back to find Asgore quietly eyeing his glass again. “What’s wrong?”

He shook his head. “I don’t know what I’m doing.” His response was completely deflated. I felt myself grow concerned.

“Seriously, Asgore, what do you mean?” Perhaps my Stockholm syndrome was spiraling out of control, but seeing Asgore unsure of himself made me feel increasingly insecure about my own predicament. I unconsciously propelled my hand to his knee in some kind of gesture of compassion, my mind racing in a drunken daze. Once I had landed, we both became immediately aware of how completely out of character it was. Asgore looked up at me.

“Sorry, I—“

“No,” Asgore reassured my hand with his own, “I appreciate your concern, human. I can see you are a kind soul…” He looked genuinely sorry, and he made a small noise in his struggle to find the words for what he wanted to say. “It saddens me to see you stuck here. I…”

Asgore’s inability to speak had my heart holding its tongue. His giant hand held mine captive against his knee, and the growing realization that neither of us wanted to leave this position riled up an unsettling tension in the air. I felt my heart twist and jump as we locked eyes, spotting a recognition of a different light in Asgore’s gaze. I felt if anyone would be bold enough to make a move, surely it would be the king of the underground, but Asgore simply sat there as if out of judicial obligation. Fuck it, I was drunk enough.

I leaned in slowly, and Asgore almost jumped as he understood my intention. I froze, wide-eyed in the fear that I had made a mistake, when Asgore suddenly moved in to complete the kiss. My heart filled with something strange as his warm mouth collided with mine, his giant goat muzzle overwhelming my face in a gentle mass. We held our kiss for a solid moment before Asgore backed off to breathe again, our drunken minds buffering into motion as he moved from the couch and pressed me back into my chair.

_Holy shit_. The weight of his body shifting on top of mine was too much for me. I never imagined this would actually happen, I thought, and as his lips pressed sweetly against mine once again, I let my hands crawl up his adorable Hawaiian shirt to the back of his neck. He responded by pressing further into the space between us, his warmth kissing my skin as his tongue lapped at my mouth. A drunken kiss if it ever was, but I didn’t care. In fact, I was all for it.

I tried my tongue against his, and it happily met mine with a sweet warmth. My mouth felt sedated from all the alcohol, making Asgore taste natural and disarming. A slow somersault flipped in my chest, and I nearly doubled in a heart attack at the feeling of Asgore’s hands moving to grip my sides, curling around my back to bring our kiss even closer. Now that we were pressed so close, I finally understood the sheer difference in our sizes. Asgore was a physically perfect fit for every aspect of the word “king”.

There was no way he couldn’t feel my length hard against his stomach through our clothes. I wondered if he was hard as well, part of me beginning to panic when I pictured the possibilities of Asgore’s size and an equal part of me growing excitedly nervous. I moved my hands from his neck to unbutton his shirt, our busy kiss attempting to distract me from the view of his chest. No way that was going to happen, and when I looked down to my work, I took in the comforting fluff that began to peek through the Hawaiian folds. Protective and stout, Asgore’s chest stood like a great wall before me, one that only sought to hold me close as Asgore began to lift my shirt.

He only made it to my stomach when he stopped in a heavy breath. “We should move somewhere more comfortable.”

My brain didn’t have time to switch into “self-conscious, overanalytical conversation” mode for a reply before I was swept up once again into Asgore’s arms. I couldn’t even recall how he picked me up so swiftly, but his secure hold on me sent orders to attack through my body, and I quickly began kissing against his neck as he carried me out the library doors. Out into the once cold hallways in Asgore’s arms, I felt so warm. In fact, if anything, I felt like I was on fire. Like the castle air was responding to my need in Asgore, fulfilled and enlightened.

The door to Asgore’s room opened quickly with an impatient boom, and before I could take in my new surroundings, I felt myself placed flat on my back in the king’s domain. The soft royal linens graced my body gently as Asgore pulled my shirt up, and I raised my arms hungrily as he pulled it over my head. Before the shirt could even escape my forearm, Asgore was diving in for a kiss, his massive, soft hands grasping desperately against my sides. Everything was unraveling so fast, at a pace that felt like the both of us were doing something we knew we shouldn’t be. The sensation was almost too much, but I wanted even more, pushing my hands free from my shirt and back to his. Still unbuttoned, I reached inside the folds of fabric and up to his shoulders, sliding his sleeves off each side of his broad shoulders and into the dark. Asgore smiled and tossed the rest of the escaping cloth to the floor, pressing his exposed fluff into my chest. He was so warm, enveloping me like a bear, and I couldn’t help but smile into our new shirtless kiss.

I was so hard, and in this position I could feel him growing against me as well. Oh fuck, he’s massive, I realized. Every second of grinding heat confirmed it, panic simultaneously interrupted and accelerated at the sensation of Asgore’s hands unfolding at my crotch. My breath escaped like a fish out of water when he unzipped the front of my pants, tugging the waste band down. Regardless of any insecure fear, I couldn’t help myself, and I let him take them off before helping him remove his as well. A giant roundness strained against his underwear in the dim light, and as he kicked his pants to the floor, I didn’t know how to prepare for what was to come. With a soft sound finally hitting the carpet, Asgore turned to me with his big floppy ears, silhouetted against the soft hallway light. His face cute and chubby, giddy with a smile as he neared closer to mine, my acrobat heart felt nervous and full.

“Wow”, I spoke, smiling unconsciously.

Asgore huffed a small laugh. “This all escalated rather quickly.”

A quick kiss before he gave me a chance to reply. I struggled with what to say, my mind reeling as I lay under him.

“You’re so warm,” I said, the only thought my drunken mind could focus on.

He smiled as we quickly drifted into another kiss. Our legs inched sweetly together as we lay in our underwear, Asgore on top, sinking his chest onto me further and further with each passing moment. The desperation of drunk passion began to kick in, and I felt his restrained erection pushing up against mine beneath our underwear. Between the alcohol and sensation overload, the sheer friction sent my mind reeling, choking on air between warm kisses. Asgore had me completely overpowered with his hands at my side as he began to really grind into me, our fronts frotting restlessly. As much as the forceful size difference hurt, it sent a sharp excitement to every far reaching corner of my body, and I challenged him head on with my own thrusts. This only made his kiss more passionate, and he moved his arms to meet mine in an authoritative pin, pushing me down into his bed.

God, he was so fucking strong. I couldn’t move as his mouth left mine, trailing to my neck for little gentle kisses that contradicted his grip. It surprised me that he could be this forward after the few awkward days we had spent together. Maybe it was just the alcohol, but I could feel a sympathetic release of tension from Asgore’s kisses, like he had been wanting and thinking about it ever since we met. Hell, I knew I had.

“Fuck,” I gripped Asgore’s ruffled hair at the tickling sensation against my neck. I realized then I hadn’t even cursed in front of him before, and perhaps that newly broken barrier caused Asgore to huddle on to me even tighter, moaning slightly into my neck. My hands glided across his shoulders on their own, down his back through the warm fur. It wasn’t as thick as his chest fur back there, and my longing for his front called my arms back home to reach for his pecs. Asgore breathed out as I brushed against his nipples, taking the warm weight of his chest into my hands. Like pillows, I thought as I massaged, warm reinforced pillows.

I had his attention now, I realized, as Asgore lifted himself up to watch me play with his chest. His breath emptied heavily in the dark air, and the way he sat back on my hardened lap to enjoy his frontal massage made me question if I wanted to fuck him or have him fuck me. There was no way I could take him, that’s for sure, and the growing pressure of Asgore’s full weight sitting on my cock had new ideas forming in my head. The night was full of opportunity.

“God, you’re beautiful.” I gasped, hands on his soft kingly belly. Asgore came back down to meet me, and my hands trailed up his torso, meeting at the back of his neck as we collided in a kiss.

“And you are quite handsome,” he smiled inbetween kisses, “…and _handy_ as well.”

I laughed. “What can I say? You’re so soft.”

Asgore let out a loud happy sigh and collapsed next to me. “Well then come here.”

He scooped me into his arms as we moved to lay sideways, pressed up against each other. Our mouths met, steamy as the continuing friction of his clothed erection pressed just under mine. His arms curled behind my back into a thrilling and warm embrace, and I steadied my hands freely against his chest. I could happily lay here forever, I thought, his undeniable warmth trailing the inside of my mouth. As peaceful as that thought was, my cock twitched at the soft curve my hand traced against Asgore’s side, and I knew that he needed a release as well.

As his hands drifted down my back and inside my waistband, I sensed our mutual understanding of where to go next. He cupped my ass with both hands, inadvertently sliding my boxers down far enough for the head of my cock to peek out, laying hard and wet against Asgore’s stomach. I reached for his underwear as well, freeing his massive length to bounce back against my underwear. His sheer mass formed a T-bone against the tip of my cock, like a giant semi-truck overtaking a humble sedan. Mass times fucking acceleration, my nervous heartbeat throttled in my throat like I had just been an accident.

Asgore pushed my underwear down further and my erection sprung free, finally frotting freely against his. We both gasped, close enough that the exchange of breath felt guttural, quickly collapsing into a loud kiss. I whined onto Asgore’s tongue pathetically as he moaned deep into me. My arms hugged his neck desperately as our lengths kissed sloppily. He had to be at least a foot long, no kidding, thick and heavy. I wanted to see it.

I exited the kiss and locked eyes with Asgore in the dark, the whites of his eyes shining a brilliant soft reflection. We both smiled, and my gaze shifted down to our collision below, where his massive erection jutted up against mine. It made my heart sink a little, only comforted by the supportive arm wrapped around me.

Asgore assumed my suspicions and spoke up. “We don’t have to do anything you don’t want to do.” His rasp attempted to appear responsibly sober, and the rumble it created in my chest warmed my heart.

I looked up to him and smiled. No words came out, but I nodded weakly as my breath escaped against his lips. Immediately we fell into another open mouthed kiss, lapping sweet tongues together as Asgore reached down to hold my length in his hand. My whole body shivered as he played my tip between his fingers, rubbing precum around the head of my cock. His tongue pushed farther into my mouth in his display of dominance, and I realized quickly that I wasn’t going to last long. Asgore began stroking our dicks together, both of us struggling to deny the temptation to thrust into his rhythm.

“Fuck, I think I’m gonna cum,” I whined.

Asgore moaned slightly in response and withheld from our kiss. One look in his eyes and I realized what he wanted to do, but as he moved away to position himself in front of my cock, I felt a violent need return suddenly.

“Wait,” I pleaded, sitting up to bring myself closer. “Stay close to me.”

“What’s the matter?” he froze halfway down my torso.

“It’s just…” I felt the weight of the castle on my shoulders as I contemplated me and Asgore’s relationship. I could feel a frenzied, alcohol induced panic forming, and the honesty came tumbling out of me, pathetic but righteous in its needy truth. “…It’s just… so cold in this castle.”

“You’re so warm.”

Asgore paused gently, before wrapping his arms around me. “Oh, come here.” A big, warm hug enveloped me, and I almost wanted to cry at the comforting chest fur pressed against my face. I really did feel safe in his arms, his giant frame perfectly capable of hiding me from everything I needed to escape. Sitting on the king’s lap in his royal bed, clutched tightly in his warmth, nothing compared.

“You’re so warm…” I repeated unconsciously.

His chest rumbled a small laugh. “And I am glad to hold you.”

Well, that was just _too_ sweet. I hugged him tightly and he reciprocated, nuzzling his big goat muzzle against the side of my head. I was surprised he was still hard after my pathetic display, but when he moved his mouth back to mine, I realized he really was happy to hold me. He hummed against my lips, and I adjusted myself to fit perfectly in his lap, our cocks pressed together as he faced down to kiss me.

Searching for a justifiable thank you, I grabbed his member tenderly. My hand was just big enough to wrap around his thick head, growing harder and wetter with each stroke. I thumbed the skin just under his head like he did to me earlier, and we both recoiled as I felt him grab my cock as well. Mutually entwined in our kiss, we began stroking each other, evening out the rhythm as I attempted to thrust in the king’s lap. As the exertion took its toll, we parted from our sweet kiss and collapsed our foreheads together, exchanging breathes desperately. Pining, panting, and pumping, all while Asgore maintained an arm around me to assure I was locked into his security. I was overwhelmed, I felt secure, and of course I felt warm.

All the alcohol in our systems fueled the natural lubricant melting into each other’s hands, more-so in Asgore’s case. He was like a leaking fountain, towering above me and spilling precum over the both of us. The feeling forced Asgore to let out a hard moan that only fueled me when I breathed it in.

“I’m almost there,” he huffed.

“Me too,” I leaned closer into him, our mouths hesitating in front of each other, hands clinging desperately to the other, kneading quickly now at the expectation of a climax. Asgore sputtered a moan in his chest as I closed the distance between us. His lips hesitated, distracted by the growing intensity in my grasp, and I continued my tongue deeper inside as he shuddered solemnly around me. I felt his warmth shoot between us, dripping over my cock as I began to build as well.

Asgore slumped against me slightly, almost defeated, but still supporting me with one arm and stroking me with the other. I wrapped both hands desperately around his neck, a position I had grown more than comfortable with against his long mane, and I waited as Asgore pushed me to my limits. His cock still pressed hard against mine, standing nearly double my length and dripping greedily on me. I felt my eyes roll back as the true warmth came over me, buried in Asgore’s grip and riding against his length. I burst into his hand, voice crackling in unfinished moans as Asgore kissed around my lips. I nearly shook from the climax, locked in place in his warm cocoon, and we quickly met in satisfied tongues. We held the kiss for what felt like forever, slowing into a frozen sculpture of fulfilled compassion, time at a standstill as we soaked up the afterglow.

Warm.

Eventually, Asgore tipped towards the head of the bed, and we collapsed into the sheets with a loud mutual huff. I assumed he was being dramatic, but when I turned to see his face, he had genuinely fallen asleep. I forgot that he had been drinking before I even showed up in his study, so who knew how drunk he had actually been. Or maybe the release was just that good, I may have wanted to think.

It didn’t really matter, I thought. I felt myself grow tired as well at the sound of Asgore’s heavy sleepy breathing, still loosely wrapped in his arms. We were kind of a mess, but I was drunk enough not to care, and comfortable enough to want only to lay and enjoy my new sleeping buddy.

Asgore, king of monsters. I couldn’t believe I was propped up cozily against his chest, drifting off to sleep. In his giant bed on the softest sheets in the kingdom. It took longer than I thought, distracted by the tickling of Asgore’s warm fur, but eventually my breathing began to mimic Asgore’s and I feel into a deep sleep in his arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [When You Sleep](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=l9-NOIalUYU&ab_channel=bnugia2)


	6. In Rainbows

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Happy Valentine's Day!

I’ve yet to find a better feeling than that domestic peace of mind that comes from waking up next to someone you love. Well, it was bold to call it love, but I had gravitated to Asgore in a way I really hadn’t experienced my entire life. His hospitality to me since I first landed in the underground was like no kindness I had experienced in a long time. That plus the payoff of what I had originally felt was only a silly crush was nigh unbelievable. Hearing the calm rise and fall of his chest as he slept next to me brought a peace to my heart like nothing else, mirrored by the few traces of morning light reflecting soft shadows around the room. Even if I was hopelessly stuck underground, I had certainly found my own little paradise for the time being.

But the longer I laid still in Asgore’s bed, I felt a strange sense of cabin fever suddenly growing. His company was much better than sleeping alone, but as the faintest heir of light creeped in through the windows, I had to wonder when the last time I had even been outside was. My body felt restless against his soft sheets, comfortable but unsure.

When I finally got around to mustering myself out of bed, I realized I definitely hadn’t gotten much sleep. Perhaps it was Asgore’s fur tickling me all night long, I thought as I noticed the absence of solid REM in my system. Honestly, I was surprised I fell asleep at all considering I had just woken up before I started drinking with Asgore, but there’s nothing like alcohol and the warmth of Asgore’s bed to knock you out. That, and of course the other stuff.

I recalled then the activities of last night, realizing we were both unkempt messes in desperate need of a shower. Asgore was still passed out, and I was doubly anxious to wake him and impartial to waiting to get clean. Fuck it, if I slept in his bed, I can use his shower, I thought.

I entered into the oversized bathroom and tiptoed awkwardly across the cold floor to the shower. Without a cuddle buddy, the castle air grew ice-cold quickly against my skin, and I itched expectantly for the steady stream of a warm shower. I wasn’t disappointed by the time the water had warmed up, and I stepped in quickly to get clean.

Time lost its track as I stood under the showerhead, soaking up the steam. The water pressure was perfect, and I felt I could almost fall asleep again just standing there when I heard the bathroom door open. I honestly panicked for a moment before I remembered from my shower daze that I had literally slept with Asgore all night. At the same time though, we were both fairly drunk during all of it, and I started growing nervous at the possibility of any awkward tension.

Asgore paused outside the fogged glass door, giving a small knock. “May I come in?” My heart flipped in my stomach, suddenly shy about him seeing me after everything that had happened.

“Of course.” Play it cool.

Asgore shuffled for a moment outside the door before opening, and when he entered, I couldn’t help but stare down his body in the shower light. He closed the gap almost too quickly, moving under the stream to meet me. I had to stop a small laugh of disbelief as Asgore moved his hands around my sides.

“Good morning,” he towered above me.

My laugh made it out anyway, “Good morning.”

He leaned in for a kiss, and despite my shyness, who was I to say no? As we gently collided, I began to feel him already slightly hard against my stomach. My painfully sober mind gulped in fear as the water began to give Asgore’s arm fur a growing weight around my torso. Both of us growing fully erect, I felt dizzy at the confirmation of Asgore’s size, everything about him threatened to crush me.

But I liked that. I laid my hands against his chest, and Asgore reached to grab me by my ass. Hungry for another kiss, he lifted me into his arms, bringing us face to face in a new rush of adrenaline. My legs dangled against his sides as he wrapped me in a warm embrace, my arms hungrily curled around his shoulders. The shower stream tickled against our faces, and Asgore moved to pin me against the wall. Another deep kiss before he leaned back to speak.

“Please tell me if I get… too rough.”

I felt my eyes widen as I tried to stifle a smile, saving face by pushing my wet hair up and out of my eyes. “Yes, sir.”

Asgore eyed me suspiciously as I smirked back at him, “I believe you mean ‘Your Highness’, boy.” His eyes stared hungrily back at mine, filling every corner of my body with an excited tingling.

“All yours, _your highness_ ,” I could barely say it seriously, but I enjoyed seeing Asgore get a little possessive.

The following kiss was worth the degradation, Asgore pressing his tongue passionately against mine in the heat. I felt his cock stiffen beneath me, prodding dangerously around my entrance. An accidental nick and I couldn’t help but let out a moan into the echoing bathroom, the reverberation feeding Asgore’s intensity. He began kissing obsessively against my neck, packing his chest tightly in to the space against mine. With his length begging to turn into a chair, I felt myself fit perfectly against Asgore’s body like a puzzle piece.

Asgore worked in tandem with the shower heat to leave me panting in sensory overload. It was clear by his movements now that he wanted to fuck me, but I knew it just wasn’t going to be possible. Another brush at my entrance had us both moaning, eyes locked in a hungry understanding.

Asgore exhaled, looking down. “Well, what are we to do about this?”

He met my gaze with a toothy smile, and I spoke, “I’m sorry, I want to so bad.”

“No, don’t be sorry,” Asgore leaned in for a quick and gentle kiss, “I may have an idea, but it will have to wait for after work.”

I felt myself frown. “I thought you said you were gonna take off work.”

“Well, I can’t do that.”

“You said the king can do whatever he wants,” I teased.

Asgore gave a slight laugh, “I apologize, I guess that’s not always true.”

My stomach interrupted with an audible growl, rumbling directly against Asgore in his hold on me. He laughed again, gazing softly as he put a hand against the side of my stomach.

“Let’s wrap this up quickly and get something to eat, hm?” Asgore hummed into a low rumble, waiting a moment before resting me back down on the ground. His hand moved from my side to my front, gracing my length tenderly. My breath shuddered out as he moved closer, rubbing our dicks together under the shower stream.

I slipped a moan into the echoing heat as Asgore and his satisfactory smile began to kneel down in front of me. The realization of what to expect as Asgore opened his mouth made me gulp, a shudder down my spine as his lips wrapped around my cock. His giant tongue rose to meet my full length, lapping forcefully like a warm ocean against my head. My limbs shook with electricity, and I rested my hands into Asgore’s hair for support as he bobbed back in forth. His hands, caressing my sides, rose to my chest as he felt around, eyeing me intensely and seductively.

The whole thing felt so strange. Asgore’s water-matted fur against my skin was a texture I couldn’t really describe, the sensation of him milking my cock, teasing the head so carefully, yet so confidently… made it really difficult to focus. I could feel myself already brimming to the edge, the heat bearing down on my head, Asgore’s tongue relentless in smothering my cock. I imagined my seed coating his mouth, covered in his warm ocean as I rode out my climax. I wondered then if Asgore would want to swallow, and I was about to speak up to tell him how close I was when his tongue flicked up around the sensitive back of my head. Immediately I broke, knees buckling into his chest as I pumped into his mouth, grabbing at his shoulders as he held me by my ass, squeezing me out like I was his breakfast. I gasped for air under the hot shower, almost doubled over on Asgore as he exited around my cock with a deep exhale. He gazed up at me expectantly, rising quickly after all of it for a kiss.

Soft noises escaped both of us as we collided, my dick buzzing limply as if I had just regained ownership of it. Asgore offered his tongue against mine for a taste, and the implication made my heart drop with a nervous anticipation. Who knew the king of the underground was this dirty?

I laughed accidentally, and Asgore exited our kiss. “What, you won’t have a taste of your own consequences?”

I blushed away from him with a laugh. “That was just pretty bold, is all.”

Asgore closed the difference by pressing our lengths together, sending dizzy stars up my body until they escaped audibly. He smiled deviously as I lost the ability to control myself, closing the divide in another kiss. I moaned helplessly into his mouth, surrendering against the taste of my own so-called “consequences”.

It was then the shower turned off, snapping me into confusion as Asgore departed to shake a little water off his fur.

“Wait, isn’t it my turn now?”

Asgore smiled, looking down. “I’m afraid I may not have time for that, but it’s alright. I shall save myself for tonight.”

My heart fluttered. “Oh, tonight?”

“Oh, yes,” he placed his hands on my shoulders, “Now let’s go eat, I need a better taste in my mouth.”

“Oh, shut up.” He started laughing, so proud of himself. I barely even knew who I was dealing with anymore.

We dried off together and got dressed quickly. Asgore kept me close as we walked through the halls, escorting me to the kitchen where he made a quick breakfast: eggs and toast. I started to realize how much I had ruined his morning routine as he hurried around the house doing his little tasks.

We ate breakfast together briefly before Asgore began to head out. I followed him to the front doors, dreading the quiet, cold castle I was about to be left alone in. At the door, he turned to me in his kingly robes and armor and gave me one more kiss, smiling gently as he always does before he spoke.

“I will see you tonight,” he held me at a comforting arm’s length.

“I’ll miss you,” I blurted out desperately as he opened the door. As stupid as the words felt, I could see a similar sentiment reflected back in Asgore’s smile as he turned away, heading across the bridge to the large building on the other side. I took in the view for a moment before closing the door, registering the distant isolation of Asgore’s castle from everything else underground along with my quiet existence inside it. On either side of the bridge lay rows of flowers swaying ever so slightly, shielded by the buttresses bearing the unnatural winds that flew over the town. Part of me itched to explore outside despite Asgore’s wishes, but I convinced myself to let the thought go and soon closed the door.

The day went by pretty slowly as I waited for Asgore to get back. Walking around aimlessly through the castle left me fairly bored, and the only thing I could find to do was peruse Asgore’s library. I had no idea if he honestly even read any of his books, a couple glances through the pages made most of his titles seem like royal fluff to pad the décor. Eventually, Asgore came back for lunch, but he was in a rush and wouldn’t allow much time for flirting. We had sandwiches again before he quickly left, and at some point my broken sleep schedule beckoned me back to Asgore’s room for a nap. Something about climbing into his bed made me feel so spoiled, and the haze of waking up in it in the middle of the day was a high akin to getting away with murder, like I had scammed a whole nation for the highest seat of luxury. I enjoyed my stay for as long as I could, gathering little scents of Asgore every time I changed position under the covers, desperately waiting for him to come back.

But every now and then a panicked voice of reason would sound in the back of my head. I continued to ignore the reality of my situation underground, how the possibility of getting out was proving to be less and less likely each day. Asgore’s company kept me content for the time being, but whenever I was alone the truth continued to gnaw at me. How long until the echoing walls of Asgore’s castle cemented my cabin fever, trapping me in stone under the earth? How much was I leading myself on in the compromise of a high fantasy crush come true? Everything seemed to work out so perfectly ever since I practically fell into Asgore’s lap. I felt like I had reset as a person, all the anxieties that drove me out to Mount Ebott in the first place had disappeared, leaving me to wonder if I should really want to go back to the surface at all. It was almost like I had been dead the whole time, rewarded with a strange mixed bag afterlife of material paradise and constant vague uncertainty.

At this point my inconsistent nap had come to a definite end, signified by the anxiety growing in my stomach. A fear to get out of bed and roam the castle, an inevitability recognizing the fact that no, I can’t stay in the same place forever.

I opted to compromise with the fear and explore Asgore’s room instead. Thinking of him kept me sane. I hazily scoured the artifacts lining the walls and shelves of the master bedroom, consisting of antiques and old knick-knacks that pondered playfully with an imagined history of Asgore’s age. I couldn’t believe what he had told me last night, that he was thousands of years old. In human standards, wouldn’t this relationship be a little unethical? Why would he be interested in an immature young adult human like me anyway?

My thoughts were interrupted when I came upon a photo frame, planted face down on the shelf. Immediately something felt off as I realized the distinct lack of photos in the castle. It could be excused on assumptions of different underground technology, but Asgore’s castle felt fairly up to date with human technology. Why hadn’t I seen any pictures throughout the castle? I hesitantly picked up the photo.

Within the frame posed three figures of goat-like monsters: Asgore, someone else, and… a child. I could only play dumb for so long before realizing the child was definitely his, as he and the other goat posed valiantly in royal garbs behind their son. The resemblance was uncanny.

I set the photo down slowly as the pieces all came together. There was a lot Asgore wasn’t telling me, and the topics he would choose to grow silent on were beginning to make more sense. He said he couldn’t age unless he had a successor, but he clearly has — or, had — one, which can only mean…

My heart twisted sickly in my stomach when I recalled the double bedroom layout of the castle, understanding that I may have been sleeping in his dead son’s room since day one. The way everything felt accurately sized relative to my height only in that room, there was no denying it. Is that why he doesn’t live with his… wife? That monster in the picture… were they even married? If so, what happened for them to separate? Is this whole situation of me being here not weird at all for Asgore, or has it been so long since the split that he’s genuinely as glad as he says he is to have a visitor?

And then the horror as I noticed more picture frames turned away, buried against the back of the cupboards behind old antiques. If I thought the bathroom fiasco from my first day here was invasive, then this was an outright felony. My curiosity swarmed throughout my body, knowing fully well I wasn’t going to be able to clarify with Asgore about any of this, let alone after sleeping with him. My fingers itched hesitantly in the air. I just wanted to know.

I couldn’t stop myself, slowly perusing each photo as if it was criminal evidence. I recognized the rooms of the castle each picture was taken in, shots of him and his wife cooking and playing with their kid, bright smiles in each picture as their child got noticeably taller. And then I stumbled on the strangest photo yet, another family portrait, but this time with a human child.

I was thoroughly confused, waiting for the implications of a reasonable explanation to connect. Maybe this was before monsters were exiled underground? Perhaps this child was just a friend of their son’s, but… then why were there more pictures with all of them posing as a family? Maybe some kind of adoption situation, there was no way I could get all the answers without asking Asgore myself, and I wasn’t sure if I was capable of that.

I tried to set the pictures back to how I found them. Regardless of my place in the underground, this was none of my business. I recalled Asgore growing uncomfortable at the explanation of his age, and now I understood why. But if his son died, what happened to the human child? It couldn’t be that…

The implications had grown too bold, and the guilt rushed to override my curiosity. It was too late to undo, and I would probably have to keep my knowing a secret from Asgore. I couldn’t believe he was dealing with all this loss in private on top of being the king of the underground. I wondered if this was the real reason he drank alone those nights, and after all his babysitting I wondered how I could possibly help in return. It wasn’t my business, but I hated knowing what he had bottled up inside.

Maybe I could make him dinner, I came up with a thought. It’s not enough to make up for my snooping, but that way he could just relax after work. Just help take a bit of his stress away after all the hospitality he had shown me. A look at one of Asgore’s ridiculously cottage-core antique clocks and I realized it was getting about time for him to be back. Yeah, dinner’s a good idea.

I headed toward the kitchen, quickly remembering that I wasn’t the greatest cook. Surely I could figure something out, I thought. You can always just throw a bunch of stuff in a pot for soup, right? By the time I got to the fridge, I began registering the ingredients I had available. Plenty of variety surprisingly, and that fact intimidated me when I recalled I was cooking for a literal king. His sandwiches were simple but always had an interesting pallet of flavor to them, I wasn’t sure if I could compete.

I noticed what seemed like normal potatoes in the open pantry. A potato stew, keep it simple and you can figure out some kind of seasoning. Something hearty and filling, as warm inside as Asgore’s bed.

I got to peeling and chopping the potatoes, deciding after a peek in the fridge on adding carrots and broccoli as well. I pulled out a base stock and crossed my fingers, unsure exactly of what the difference in stock might be underground. As I began chopping the other vegetables and throwing them into a pot, I realized this really didn’t take very long to make, and I wondered how much time I was really saving Asgore. Well, it’s always the thought that counts.

A little flour added to thicken the stew, and with everything in the pot, I searched the kitchen for some kind of leafy garnish to give the dish any sense of sophistication. I found a few unfamiliar cloves of something green, gave it a taste, and decided to roll with it. With some basic salt and pepper, I stirred all the ingredients around in the pot as the boiling heat began to kick in. Well shit, I was doing something.

My under-studied roleplay as a housewife went on for a while, and to be honest, I really did enjoy it. I itched at the thought of Asgore coming home any second, catching me in the oh-so-scandalous act of making him dinner. I wanted him to know how I felt, how grateful I was for who he was, for who he’d been for me despite the circumstances. It was all so stupid, a part of me knew. High fantasy at its finest, but for the time being it was all very much reality. Before I could put together what to do and when to do it, I wanted to soak up this feeling.

And just as I had finished making dinner, I picked up on the heavy shuffling in the hallway as Asgore came home. Home. I shook the funny feeling off with a fearful laugh at myself, smiling at Asgore when he stepped into the kitchen, his face reflecting a similarly strange smile back at me.

“And what is all this?” His mouth hung open softly.

“I made dinner.”

A mix of emotions flashed across his face, and his lack of immediate reply made me anxious.

“It’s… potato stew,” I gave a weak smile as my housewife ego came crumbling down.

Asgore broke into a hearty laugh, attempting to calm himself before he spoke, “Why do I feel like I should be afraid?”

“Oh, shut up,” I nearly threw my ladle at him, “Do you want some or not?”

He stopped himself and smiled deeply. “I would love some.”

I eyed him suspiciously before turning away to pour him a bowl. My thoughts trailed between being absolutely smitten and irritated as I filled the bowls with a dumb smile in my face. Asgore shuffled over to the table in anticipation, and my anxieties returned. It didn’t help that I made way too much potato stew than needed for two. Hopefully it was good enough for leftovers, I thought.

All prepped, I grabbed two spoons and brought the bowls to the table with a “does it look like I know what I’m doing?” smile. Asgore attempted to visually oversell his excitement after laughing at me, and it took a lot not to roll my eyes.

“Here you are, Your Highness,” I teased.

“Why, thank you.” He gracefully reached for the plate and I sat down across from him, watching in anticipation. Slowly, he picked out a spoonful and brought it to his mouth, carefully eyeing me as if he were thinking up one final joke. Finally, he took a bite, studying the taste as if it was a fine wine.

“Mmm… very hearty, it’s good.”

I’ll take it, I thought as I dipped my own spoon in for a taste. Seeing Asgore go immediately for a second bite made me relax, excited to try my own creation. It was surprisingly decent for what I expected, and dare I say it, I was a little proud of myself considering my cooking experience.

“Damn, this is actually good.” I stared at my bowl as Asgore chuckled into his spoon. Laughing through my butchered presentation, I raised my head. “Anyway, how was work?”

“Oh, you know…” Asgore toyed with his spoon. “It was work.”

“No new legislations? Death sentences?”

Asgore laughed uncomfortably. “It is relatively peaceful in the underground, really. Not much to do as a king but be in attendance.”

“That’s probably a good thing at the end of the day.”

“I suppose…” Asgore trailed off in a low rumble. “I am glad to be home. I did miss you.”

That had me blushing. How did I end up in this situation, sitting at home for a needy king? Making him dinner of all things, and shying at his sweet words. It was moments like these where it often felt like it all wasn’t real.

“It’s funny,” I pondered on the day’s earlier thoughts, “I have to wonder, why the interest in me?”

Asgore stared back, puzzled. “What do you mean?”

“Well…” For some reason I found it difficult to own up to my own words around him, “I guess I feel like I might be a bit immature for someone your age.”

“Oh,” Asgore eased into another hearty laugh, “After all these years, you would think that all becomes a silly way of looking at it, yes?”

I couldn’t help but stare back, eagerly confused.

“I believe that — well… you remind me of my youth, I suppose,” He reached out to hold my hand. “Like… a familiar brand of tea.”

I laughed, “What’s with you and tea?”

“My infatuation with tea is actually quite recent,” Asgore shifted into his royal tone of speech, “Habits come and go over the years. They… always form into something new.”

I smiled, “I have to ask, did you get a crush as early on as I did?”

Asgore cocked an eyebrow, “Oh, when was that?”

“Like, the moment I met you.”

“When I was a stammering drunk?” Asgore laughed, “Well… how could I refrain from falling for a helpless naked boy in the shower?” He teased his leg against mine under the table, and I flushed red under the weight of his flirting.

I sighed out, loudly and embarrassed. “I can’t even handle you.”

Asgore leaned in with an evil grin. “Oh, we both know that too well, now don’t we?” He took another bite of the stew as his legs continued to brush up against mine, eyes locked in a stare. I could never take his compliments confidently, let alone respond properly to his intense flirting.

He spoke again in my place instead, “You remember this morning I mentioned I had an idea, yes?”

“Oh, right.” I had actually forgotten. “And that would be…?”

“Well, you implied that we might have a… size problem,” he gazed back at me as he continued his game of footsie under the table, “but I feel I may have a solution.” He wiggled his fingers excitedly in the air.

“Magic.”

I nearly gulped. Magic sex? I had no idea what Asgore’s idea of “magic” implied, but it had my stomach doing somersaults in anticipation. I broke into a hesitant smile, “Alright, I’m interested.”

“Oh, I bet you are.” Asgore teased as he stood from the table.

Dinner was apparently over, and dessert had come around to meet me at my chair. Asgore towered above me as usual, my eyes meeting level with his belt buckle hiding behind his kingly cloak. I was almost tempted to reach inside the folds and try to tease him in my own way, but my thought was interrupted by his extended hand.

“Come with me.” Asgore smiled gently.

Right, always a hospitable air to everything this man does. It didn’t stop me from blushing as I grabbed his hand, his strength pulling me confidently under his guiding arm. His warmth quickly coerced me out of the kitchen, his cloak nipping at the back of my legs as we moved impatiently through the halls. Asgore always seemed to know what he was doing, but our excited traversals of the hallways never failed to leave me in a daze.

When we arrived through the door to his room, Asgore turned to face me at the foot of his bed. “Do you know how to remove the royal armor?”, he broke into a kingly roleplay, smiling his usual infectious smile. “First you take the cloak off.”

“Right…” My mind trailed off as my hands reached around his massive shoulders, unlatching the clips on his shoulder plates. As the cloak collapsed like velvet to the floor, I raised my gaze back to his, “And what next?”

“The spaulders, as well,” he instructed in a low rumble.

“Of course, Your Highness.” I laughed in slight fear of the consequences of my teasing, lifting the shoulder plates with a jingle from the chain mail underneath. Once I was done, Asgore removed the breastplate himself, up and over his head as his massive arms stretched valiantly against the metal weight.

Playing with the chain mail in my hands, I asked, “Do you really wear this every day?”

“Well, of course.”

“But why?”

“It’s symbolic.” I noticed him unconsciously straighten his posture. “It is for the people, and the workers I see every day.”

I tried to hide my expression, as something about his answer didn’t feel quite right. I’d never heard Asgore talk about his leadership like that, and I wasn’t sure if he meant to sound genuinely serious or honorably sexy, but perhaps because of my memories of the surface, it left me feeling vaguely uncomfortable. Perhaps out of my own interest, I suspected he was compromising with something, but I surrendered the thought as Asgore began to roll the chainmail over his head. Each tuft of fluff set free with a metal jingle, my hungry stares felt audible.

Asgore noticed my distraction, tossing the heavy piece to the floor before embracing me in his big arms. My face pressed against his chest fur and I let out a small unconscious laugh as his hands lifted the hems of my shirt. Cloth rising up and over my head, my freed arms gave into his softness and wrapped around to his sturdy back, pressing my face once again into his chest with a much different sound than before.

“I thought about you all day,” he rasped softly above my ear. The words quietly reverberated through the room like a buzz.

I turned my head, muffling to the side of his chest fur, “Me too.”

He caught my chin with a gentle hand and lifted it into a kiss, our height difference just barely allowing for it as I reached for his shoulders. I could feel him growing tighter at the front of his pants as our soft lips reacted to each other, I myself barely contained in my own. My hands moved to his sides, fondling around the royal belts and metal bits to find a way to free my king.

It was a while before I gave into the struggle. “How do you get this fucking thing off?” I laughed.

Asgore chuckled back gently, “I got it.”

I started taking off my own pants as I waited for Asgore’s belt machine to be dismantled. When he finally slid his giant thighs from the royal folds, I moved forward to feel his against mine, bulging behind our last layer of clothing. Something about the friction against his clothed mass made me feel drunk. Not to mention his reaction, this was the only way I could realistically make Asgore squirm to my imagination. It made me feel giddy to have found the king’s admittedly obvious weak spot.

It wasn’t long before Asgore slipped out a strange noise against the friction, and with a heavy breath he suddenly lifted me into his arms, knocking the air out of my lungs as he pinned my back to the bed in one quick motion. He grinned slightly as he weighed over me, hands against my wrists, watching my dazed recovery from his stunt. Failing to move my arms, I only grew more excited as he came down to grind against me.

“I love that you love being pinned like this,” Asgore almost whispered as if he was embarrassed to say the words out loud. As if there was any room to be embarrassed, we were both fully hard against each other, waiting with bated, shaky breaths. “Are you ready for another magic show?”

I felt like he had already put a spell on me. “Yes, please.”

He nodded slightly before slipping off his briefs, cock springing free before he let it collapse expectantly against my underwear. I almost reached to take it off when Asgore gave a hungry tug at my waistband, effortlessly sliding me free. He was quick to push our cocks back together, a bit more forceful this time as if to drive home his dominance. Still pinned and panting against him, I had no means of questioning it.

But then Asgore stopped and stared at me softly for a moment, only to break our pose for a kiss. His arms released the pin, wrapping around me and burying me once again in his warmth. My own arms felt numb from taking his strength for even that short while, falling loosely before my hands began groping at his hair. His tongue nipped boldly at mine, his teeth daring to bite and swallow me whole.

Asgore broke the kiss, inching away ever so slightly. He smiled warmly. “Are you ready?”

My lips tingled so close to his. “Absolutely.”

Asgore moved back, holding one finger up between us. The all too familiar pink haze began forming out of thin air around it, bubbly and warm like I remembered. Asgore sat back and prepped his finger at my entrance, tracing gently in circles. I felt my heart drop as the magic sent sensitive shivers through my system.

“Wait, how does this work?” I suddenly felt concerned whether this would work or not, let alone if I was really ready for it.

“A magician never tells his secrets,” Asgore teased, “Just trust me.”

I gulped before giving Asgore a slight nod of approval. He locked his gaze with mine, nodding back as he slowly entered one digit at a time. His giant fingers were almost the size of an average dick, and that much I’d never even taken before, yet somehow the magic was doing its job. It felt simultaneously like a lubricant and a stimulant, physically present in texture yet almost made out of air. And it felt… really good. It was like a high, coating my insides in an invisible climate as Asgore took up more and more space inside me, buzzing the same warmth I remembered from my healings throughout my entire body.

“Does it feel good?” Asgore hovered over my stomach, crouched in anticipation of my reaction.

“Yeah,” I smiled through a daze, “Keep going.”

Immediately, I felt Asgore slip in a second finger at my confirmation, my entrance accompanying the width with ease. I couldn’t help but push my hips down on his fingers, wanting now to be fucked by the real thing. I moaned when Asgore gripped my cock, now leaking slightly as he thumbed over the tip. I thrusted unconsciously into his stroke as his fingers pushed further into me. The back and forth rhythm forced the magic high out of me in louder moans. It was amazing, and it had me confident in what I wanted.

“Okay… I’m ready,” I pleaded, “I want the real thing.”

“Already?” Asgore’s cheeky smile was audible. For a moment, my brain nearly short-circuited as Asgore slipped his fingers out. There was a full body sensation that his magic added to every feeling, crippling me at any semblance of intensity. It really was like being high; I felt like a burning candle.

Asgore propped my legs up and readied himself, stroking my cock slowly while he positioned his at my entrance. He waited there for a moment for me to look at him before he spoke, “Tell me if I need to stop, okay?”

“Okay.” My desperation put a tilt in my voice. I’d never felt so needy like I did when Asgore was around, it made me wonder if he really did put a spell on me long ago.

“Alright, here I go…” Asgore announced in a distracted tone, the tip of his cock sliding against my entrance as he began to spread my legs apart. The strange magic texture inside of me almost seemed to pull him in, effortlessly gliding his cock deeper and deeper inside me. I couldn’t help but grab for his arms, gripping him tightly as I felt him push further. I started to feel full, and my magic head high began solidifying into something warm, a feeling reminiscent of the healing session buzz right before I would drift to sleep. It was bizarre, but the pressure of Asgore’s cock grounded me in the present. As he began to slowly thrust into a rhythm, my hips moved on their own to meet his push. My body felt hot, and I couldn’t help but whine at every little sensation.

“As-gore… come closer.” I wanted to feel his chest against mine, have our lips touch as he fucked me. “I want—you’re so…”

“I’m warm, is that right?” Asgore teased sweetly as he leaned in, finishing my thought for me as he recalled my embarrassing act from the night before.

I couldn’t help but smile anyway, “Yeah…”

My train of thought was derailed by Asgore’s lips on mine, contrasted with his irresistible thrusts moving faster inside of me. He _was_ warm, and his lips tasted like the savory meal I had shared with him. My hands groped around his broad, soft chest as his tongue overpowered mine. I moaned and he began picking up speed, panting heavier and heavier as his massive length began fucking the precum out of me. I felt the full gratifying weight of our bodies so close together, and my head grew sensitive as it grinded against his lower stomach, almost painfully hard. I couldn’t even tell if Asgore was entering me all the way, but it already felt like a lot to take, especially as he began to lose control of his speed. I whined as he collapsed on top of me, continuing to thrust even harder as he panted in my ear. His breath was warm, almost invasive as it creeped down my neck.

“Fuck me…” I wrapped my arms around his broad shoulders and moaned against his floppy ears. My cock was nearly drooling as the remaining magic almost seemed to heighten my self-lubricant, growing harder in the joy of being trapped against Asgore. The sensation kept building, and suddenly I found myself whining again, “I’m close.”

Asgore moaned in reply before speaking properly. “Come with me,” a warm breath whispered in my ear. He began kissing my neck, sweetly at first, but slowly I began to feel his teeth nip at me as well. His massive hands moved back to my wrists, holding me in place against his bed while he fucked me. I moaned harder against each thrust, Asgore’s hot breath on my neck, his rhythm building stronger and faster when suddenly a new pulse of magic sent waves through my body. It was Asgore’s, releasing inside of me, unconsciously forcing my hips to roll even harder against Asgore’s front. The immense pressure went straight to my cock, and the sensation sent me over the edge, pouring out between my stomach and his. The magic haze in my head felt deafening as I cried out only to hear nothing but the falling breaths lying defeated against my ear. Asgore had stopped thrusting by now and laid collapsed on top of me as the ringing in my head subsided. I panted heavily as I came down, almost giggling as the magic head high washed away. His arms still pinned loosely against me, I felt wonderfully captured with my length pressed between us, drained and buzzing with warmth.

I began trailing my fingers down Asgore’s shoulder lightly in an attempt to comfort the beast on top of me. He responded by wrapping his arms around me, kissing my cheek sweetly before crashing his forehead gently against the side of my head. A moment of that peaceful silence before he rose to meet my lips, carefully and wordlessly in a calm kiss. I held him there with my arms wrapped around the back of his neck, feeling his cock twitch as it still laid inside me. He pulled back and we locked eyes for a moment before he smiled, “That was great.”

I laughed warmly in reply, my chest bumping playfully against his fur. Asgore leaned in for one more kiss before backing off to his knees. He pulled out slowly, holding his stare once again as if to savor my reaction. I couldn’t help but whine a bit at the massive movement, my knees retreating slightly inward from the loss of heat. I let out a heavy sigh as Asgore’s hand graced my arm gently from the side of the bed.

“Are you feeling okay?” he rumbled.

“Oh, absolutely,” my weak voice almost caved into a laugh.

“Let’s clean up, shall we?” Asgore spoke as his eyes gazed softly over me. I smiled and raised my arms lazily towards him. He took the hint, picking me up bridal style once again to carry me off to the shower. I laughed and kissed at his neck as I felt the rumble of his giant footsteps beneath me. The sound of him fumbling with knobs and handles, the fall of warm water beckoning me to fall asleep in Asgore’s arms. And I almost did, as he didn’t even set me down when he finally stepped into the shower, kissing at my neck instead as we fought for affection space under the waterfall. Part of me begged to whisper “I love you” beneath the sound of the echoing stream, but I kept it to myself and continued to kiss Asgore instead.

Eventually, we dried off and returned to Asgore’s room, smiling and whispering small words to each other as we cuddled in his bed. Our legs interlocked, changing positions like slow moving clouds every other second, his soft length resting calmly on mine as he kissed my head comfortingly, his arms wrapped around my back and mine under his. My whole conscious felt still as I fell asleep in his enveloping warmth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> [Unison](https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cOaW2mYXJIs&ab_channel=Bj%C3%B6rk-Topic)


End file.
